Pause, Rewind, Replay
by henriettaline
Summary: July 2012: Rachel and Finn are going to NY in the fall. But when an accident robs Finn of all memory since the start of sophomore year, he finds that he has a fiancee, extended family and life that he doesn't know and initially doesn't want to. With Finn's life so different and so much forgotten, how can he find his way back to Rachel?
1. driven to the edge of a deep dark hole

_A/N: Just so you know, this is going to be rather long and angsty. However, I enjoy happy endings even more than I enjoy trying to peek into Finn's confused mind, so it won't be unrelieved angst. Consistent with canon through "The Spanish Teacher" (3-12), AU thereafter; Finn and Rachel are engaged but have not decided when to get married, and Finn's supposed to be going to CUNY for college, with Rachel and Kurt both going to NYADA.  
_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Glee, or its characters, or any of the episodes and songs referenced and quoted from in this fic. I also certainly do not own the basic plot, which is fundamentally trite and hackneyed, but I hope you like what I've done with it._

_Any resemblance between this fic and actual (non-Hollywood) amnesia is highly unlikely._

* * *

Finn felt stiff, like he hadn't moved in days. He groaned softly and started to move his legs a little. He was on his back, this didn't feel like his bed, and it certainly smelled a lot cleaner than his room. Antiseptic. God, he was sore. And his head hurt, and he felt like he was trying to think through mud. His eyes twitched.

"Finn?" That was his mother's voice, and he felt her hand take his. He blinked his eyes open narrowly, and saw her face over him. "Oh, thank God, Finn, honey. We've been so worried." She looked extremely relieved.

"Mom," Finn croaked. He saw a man he didn't know standing next to her. "Is this..."

"You're in the hospital, honey, you were in an accident," his mom said. "You've been out for about four days, so you're going to be stiff." She adjusted the pillow under his head and looked at the equipment, her nursing experience kicking in even now.

"Should I get the doctor?" asked the man, quietly.

"In a few minutes, I don't want to overwhelm Finn just yet," his mom answered. "But get Rachel, she went to the nursing station." The man nodded and left. His mom turned back to him, and he could see tears in her eyes, her face happy. "Hey kiddo, welcome back. How do you feel?"

"Sore," Finn admitted. "My head hurts."

"Well you had a bit of a bump."

"Who was that guy?"

"Who?"

"The dude here just now."

"Burt?" His mother's voice sounded alarmed, but she calmed herself. "That's Burt, honey, you know Burt."

"I do?"

"Yes." She looked puzzled, then grabbed a small flashlight. "Let me see your eyes, honey." She quickly flashed light into each eye. "Looks fine," she said to herself. She held a finger out but steadied his head. "Follow my finger." He followed it with his eyes as she moved it right, left, then up and down. She looked at the readout of his vitals again. "Well you seem fine." She swallowed, looking tense. "What's your name?"

"You're kidding."

"Just humor me, okay honey? Full name."

"Finn Christopher Hudson."

"Who am I?"

Finn smiled weakly. "You're my mom," he said. "Carole Hudson."

"How old are you?"

"Um... sixteen in October. So, fifteen." Climbing out of the fog, he saw the alarm in his mother's face that she tried to hide. "Mom, what is it? What's going on?"

"What year is it, honey?"

"two thousand... and nine," he said slowly. "September."

"What did you do yesterday? The last day you remember."

"Um, school," he said. "Football practice. Gotta work hard to stay first string as a sophomore." He swallowed, his mouth extremely dry. "what's going on, what's wrong?"

A sound at the door distracted him, and he saw a girl with long brown hair fly into the room. "Finn!" She was practically crying. "Oh thank God, Finn." She rushed to his side and took his other hand. He saw a stitched cut on her temple and dark circles under her eyes. He'd seen her before, in school; she was that small girl with the big voice that everyone picked on. Looked a bit different, though. She was clearly emotional but gave him a big smile.

"Um, who..." Finn's voice trailed off. "What are you doing here?" he asked uncertainly.

"Where else would I be?"

"School?" He knew he was getting to be a big deal at school, and maybe he'd been in a bad accident or something, but he wouldn't expect random classmates to show up, especially not someone like her, not part of his crowd at all. Had she been hurt in the accident too?

His mom gave the girl a worried look, then pressed the call button to summon hospital staff. She walked around him to put her arm around the girl, who looked puzzled. Finn became even more confused. "Is Quinn here?" he asked. "Was she with me?"

"Quinn?" The girl sounded mad, and she looked horrified. The man came up behind her as two nurses and a doctor came in at the door.

"You should go, Rachel honey," his mom told her quietly, then looked over her shoulder. "Burt..." The man nodded, and steered the girl out of the way, but it seemed she wouldn't leave the room.

Finn flinched as the hospital staff flitted around him, checking him over.

"He just woke up," his mother told the arriving doctor, an older Chinese man in a white coat. She pulled him aside and spoke softly; all Finn could see was the doctor's head nodding in acknowledgement.

After a few moments the doctor turned back to him and addressed the nurses. "Clear the others from the room," he said. "Ms. Berry, that includes you." One of the nurses showed the girl and the man from the room; the other continued to take Finn's readings, checking his pulse, his eyes, and so on.

Finn felt like he was being treated as if he was still unconscious, and it was obvious that something serious about him was being discussed. "Will someone please tell me what is going on?" Finn shouted his question hoarsely.

The doctor and his mother exchanged a look, and the doctor nodded at her. She sat down at his bedside and took his hand.

"Finn, honey, it's not when you think it is," Carole said quietly, trying to calm him. She glanced at the monitor, then back at Finn's face. "You've lost some time – you were in a coma for four days, but you don't seem to remember a lot more than that."

"What? – How long?" _A few weeks maybe?_

"It's not September two thousand and nine... it's two thousand and twelve." Finn stared at her, completely dumbfounded by what she was telling him. "July tenth, actually. You're eighteen and you graduated from high school last month."

"No." Finn said it flatly. "There's just no way." He stared at the end of his bed.

"Finn, look at me," his mother cajoled. "It's been you and me your whole life, since you were a baby. You know I wouldn't tell you something like this unless it was true." She looked up at the nurse across the bed from her. "Could I have a mirror, please?"

The nurse went to the drawers at the side of the room, and returned with a mirror. Carole held it up before Finn's face so he could see himself. "This may be hard for you to tell, honey, but you look older. It's not just the accident and being in the hospital."

Finn glanced at the mirror at first, not really willing to believe the incomprehensible thing that his mother was telling him. But he trusted her; she was the one constant in his life. So he looked again, and saw – a more defined face, older, with scruff on his chin and cheeks. He took his hand from his mom's and brought it up to rub his chin. He certainly hadn't grown whiskers like that before, sure he'd been starting in some spots but this was a lot more. He looked himself in the eyes, and blinked. Yes, this was himself all right. But he was, like, finally through puberty or something.

Finn gave his mother a look of panic and sank back on the pillow, closing his eyes. "What's happened to me?" he asked weakly.

"You were in a motor vehicle accident," the doctor said calmly. "Your truck was run off the road, it rolled and you hit your head. You've been in a coma for the last four days. We didn't detect any brain damage, but some amnesia is certainly possible and you seem to be affected. We'll need to do more tests."

Finn opened his eyes again and looked at the doctor. "But it's temporary, right? I mean, there's no brain damage so it'll come back, _right_?" He was getting increasingly panicked, and his mother squeezed his hand, helping him calm down a little as he focused on her. _It's still me and Mom._

"Amnesia is usually temporary without major damage but there's no way to know. We haven't detected any damage yet. As I said, we need to do more tests. Your girl called for help right away, so you have the best chance possible." He looked up at the monitors, then down at Finn's drawn face. "You should rest." He looked at Carole. "Carole, you can stay with him for a while, but don't engage him too much; even though he's only just woken up he won't have much energy. We'll start looking into what's wrong."

Carole nodded at the doctor, and the medical staff left.


	2. like a torn up photograph

Once the medical staff had gone, Finn and his mother looked at each other for a few moments.

"This is crazy," Finn said finally, breaking the silence. "I can't be eighteen."

"I sometimes think that too," Carole replied. "My little boy is all grown up. But it's true."

"I believe you. I mean, I have to, right?" He swallowed. "How's Quinn? You didn't say when I asked before."

"I – I have no idea," she said. "I haven't seen Quinn Fabray since graduation. I don't know if you have either, we had a barbeque last week but she wasn't there."

"It's just – the doctor said my girl called for help." Finn's face fell. "Oh, you mean we're not together anymore," he said. "I guess it's been a long time and our team does kinda suck. She must've found someone better."

"Actually, you found someone better," Carole said, smiling encouragingly. "She probably helped save your life, too."

"Huh." _I found someone better? Better than a super-pretty and popular head Cheerio?_ Finn tried to think, but he was so tired. "Was that her, before?" _Might explain why she was here – but how did that happen?_

"Yes," Carole answered. "That's Rachel. I guess you didn't know her back then."

"No..." Not know her. Feel bad about how his buddies picked on her, yeah, but it's not like he could have done anything about that or talked to her. What had gone on with him that he was now dating one of the school outcasts? _This is all too much to take in._

"She's going to want to see you, you know." Carole looked over at the closed door, through which they could hear the sounds of an argument. "That would be her now, actually."

"That's – loud." The girl sounded very insistent.

"Hospital soundproofing can only do so much." Carole touched Finn's hand. "But you need rest. I'll talk to her."

Carole went to the door, and opened it carefully to block those outside from coming in as she exited and closed it behind her. "Finn needs his rest, Rachel," she said to the distraught young woman outside.

Rachel wiped her eyes. "What's going on, Carole? The doctor said something about amnesia."

Carole took her hands in her own. "As far as we can tell right now, Finn has lost the last few years of his memory," she explained. "He didn't recognize Burt, and he thinks it's September two thousand and nine. I've told him when it really is, and he's accepted that he's older than he thinks he is, but he's very confused."

"That's – oh my god." Rachel's tears started to flow again. "So that's why he asked for Quinn, he thinks he's still with her. Does he remember me at all?"

"It doesn't seem like it," Carole responded. "I did tell him, though."

"Is he okay? Other than his memory, I mean?"

"Vitals seem fine and they didn't detect any brain damage. Physically, he seems fine. The doctor said they're going to run more tests." Carole tried to comfort Rachel. "You probably saved his life, getting help so quickly," she said. "And in all my years as a nurse I've never known a doctor who would completely commit to any prognosis."

"He's alive and awake," Rachel affirmed, twisting her hands in Carole's. She swallowed. "I need to see him," she said forcefully.

"He needs rest, honey. He just came to. And amnesia is usually just temporary – there's no point in causing him a whole lot of stress about something that's probably just going to fix itself."

"Just for a few minutes. I've spent the last four days terrified that he was never going to wake up, and I need to see him. See his eyes and hear his voice -" Rachel broke off and wiped her eyes. "I'll try to be calm, I promise. Carole, please."

"Okay. But not for long."

Finn was starting to nod off, but was roused by the door opening again. The short dark-haired girl came in, with his mother behind her.

"Hello," the girl said hesitantly as she approached him.

"Hi," Finn said.

"Your mom says you don't remember me," she said.

"No," Finn answered lamely. "Not really." _This sucks_, he thought. _The last thing I remember is I thought I was getting somewhere with Quinn, and now I have a totally different girl that I don't even remember talking to, and she's not a girl I could have seen myself with. That the others would have even let me be with. Isn't she supposed to be all loud and annoying? _"I've seen you around school, a bit." _Pretty sure I slushied her for football initiation, but that doesn't really count. What the hell was I doing slushying a girl I don't know anyway?_

She moved to the right side of his bed, and held her right hand out to his. "Rachel Berry," she said quietly.

He raised his hand to take hers. "Finn Hudson." He grimaced at his own stupidity. "I guess you knew that." Carole closed the door and left them alone.

"Even back then." Rachel sat down next to him, still holding his hand. "How are you, Finn?" she asked.

"Things are a little foggy but I think I feel okay," he said. He looked at the girl. _She seems nice, I guess,_ he thought. _Kind of intense but nice._ He noticed the stitched cut at her temple. "Your head, is that from the accident?"

"Yes, from a bit of stray metal," she said. "It'll heal soon."

"I'm sorry," he said. _What do you say to someone like this?_

"It wasn't your fault, Finn," Rachel stated. "Some lunatic was weaving through traffic and sideswiped us. There wasn't anything you could have done. You're an excellent driver."

"Oh." Finn swallowed. _Guess that's changed too._ "They say... you kind of helped save my life," he said slowly. "By getting help so fast. Thanks."

"I'm just so glad you're okay."

"Aside from the fact that I don't remember you, or most of the last three years, yeah, I'm fine," Finn said wryly. He looked at her more carefully. "You sounded more upset outside. This must be really hard for you."

"Oh, you heard me." Rachel reddened. She rested her left hand on the rail of the hospital bed, with her right hand still idly holding Finn's. "Well, I spent the last four days praying that you were going to wake up, so I suppose I can't get too picky about things when you do."

"You were worried." Finn's voice was husky.

"I was terrified," Rachel admitted. "Worst four days of my life."

Finn met her eyes for a moment, then dropped his gaze. His eyes were suddenly caught by the sparkle coming from her left hand. "Is that -" his eyes widened and he thought his heart would stop. "Are we _engaged_?"

Rachel reflexively pulled both hands away, then sighed and put her left one back. "Yes," she said, looking down at the ring.

"Are – are you pregnant?" Shock and fear filled Finn's voice. _Did I get with her and knock her up, that's why we're together?_

"No," Rachel responded, confused. "Oh. No, nothing like that," she stated. "And it's just an engagement, we haven't talked about when or anything."

"It's just, engaged at eighteen – and I don't..." _even know you._ Finn cut himself off before he finished. But Rachel could tell where that thought was going, and flinched. She swallowed.

"I guess it is kind of crazy, when you think about it like that," she replied, her efforts to stay calm becoming increasingly obvious. She gave a thin laugh. "I even said so at the time, but you convinced me otherwise."

_I – what?_ "I'm sorry, it's just that – I know I'm eighteen, I mean my mom says I am, and becoming a father then would be scary enough, but I feel like I'm only almost sixteen... well it doesn't matter because you're not. Engaged, though, that's pretty serious too." _To someone I'd've been thrown into the dumpster for even talking to – what the hell has gone on?_

"Yes." Rachel was clearly uncomfortable. "I should go," she said. "Your mom says you need your rest, and the time you're missing is a lot to take in. And they say memory loss is usually just short-term, so you shouldn't stress yourself about it or what you do and don't remember." She met his eyes, and touched his hand again. "I am so glad you're awake, Finn," she said, tearing up. "And I'm sure the doctors will do everything they can for you." She paused. "Is it okay if I visit you again? Tomorrow?"

"Yeah, okay," Finn mumbled.

"Okay then. I'll see you tomorrow." She leaned forward and cupped his cheek with her hand. "I love you, Finn," she said, her eyes moist, her face full of emotion. "Whether you remember it or not, I love you. And if you ever need anything, I'm here."

There was really nothing Finn could say to that, so he just watched her leave.

* * *

Rachel managed to hold in the tears until she left Finn's room and closed the door behind herself, but then they spilled over, and she put her head in her hands and cried. Arms went around her: Kurt, who had been waiting outside. She clutched at him.

"Let it out, diva," Kurt said softly, steering her away from Finn's room to sit in some chairs at the far end of the hall, as Carole slipped back into Finn's room to check on him.

"He's alive, he's awake – but he doesn't remember me," she sobbed. "I'm happy, I'm sad, I don't know what I am. It's all too much."

"So he's really lost his memory?"

"He's back to right before he joined Glee." She sniffled and wiped her eyes with the handkerchief Kurt offered. "The doctor and Carole say this sort of loss is usually just short-term, but how can they know, they didn't have any idea it was going to happen in the first place. And it's so hard, I've been so worried about him, all I want to do is kiss him and feel his arms around me. But I've looked into his eyes and heard his voice, even if they seem different, so I guess that'll have to be enough for now."

They stood up as Carole came down the hall and rejoined them. "Finn's going to sleep now," she said, and the others nodded in acknowledgement. "But he says you told him about your engagement, Rachel?" she asked, concerned.

"I had to, he saw the ring and panicked. At first he thought it was because I was pregnant, so I had to reassure him that I'm not."

"Funny, he's not too far before when Quinn told him she was pregnant," Kurt commented.

"Did he see your ring?" Rachel asked Carole.

Carole touched her wedding ring in sudden agitation. "No, I don't think so," she said. "I hadn't thought of that. He didn't recognize Burt, that's what started me asking questions about what he could remember. And his old attitude to our relationship was not good, he was so hung up about his father." She paused, thinking.

"We should hold off on telling him for a few days," she decided. "If it's just short-term amnesia it'll come back quickly and we can avoid going through all of that again. Fortunately all the staff here use my first name since they know me, and he'll need to stay here for a bit while they run tests and observe."

"Where's Dad?" Kurt asked.

"He went back to the house to get a few things for Finn," Carole said. "I'll talk to him, explain why I'm taking my ring off around Finn for a few days." She sighed. "Taken all together my boy has had such upheaval in his life in the last three years," she said. "If he doesn't start remembering some of it soon it's going to hit him hard, taking it in all at once. It was just me and him for so long, in the same house, and now he has a stepfather and brother and a different house. Graduated high school, heading off to college in New York. Engaged."

"He has handled it," Rachel said.

"Over time, he did," Carole replied. "Maybe I'm just being protective, but... I'm his mother, that's my job and it always has been." She looked down the hall at the elevators, which had just disgorged some others of the New Directions: Mike and Tina, followed by Will Schuester and Emma Pillsbury. "Kurt, can you talk to your friends, tell them what's going on? Finn's asleep and nobody, not even you Rachel, is going to disturb him again until tomorrow. I have to talk to the doctors again, so I'll see you at home."

Carole went off to the medical station, leaving Kurt and Rachel behind to face the others. Rachel sank into a chair, her head in her hands.

"I'll talk to them," Kurt told her, resting his hand on her shoulder to try to offer some comfort. She gripped his hand briefly in acknowledgement, then let him go.

More of their friends were coming out of the elevators: Puck, Blaine, Mercedes, Brittany, Santana. Kurt took a deep breath and walked down the hall to talk to them.

"Well, how is he?" Puck looked relieved but wanted answers.

"Finn's awake. Well he's gone to sleep, Carole says, but it's actual sleep. No more coma."

"That's great," Mr. Schue said, and the others echoed this. "Have you seen him?"

"No. Just Carole and Rachel, and Carole says he's off-limits until tomorrow. The bad news is... he seems to have some memory loss," Kurt sighed.

"Shit," Puck said. "How much?"

"He thinks it's 2009," Kurt answered. "He's lost almost three years." The others groaned.

"When in 2009?" Puck looked alarmed.

"Early September." Kurt noticed Puck's dramatic relief. "Why is that good?"

"This version of Finn doesn't want to kick my ass," Puck said. "Okay I deserved it, but been there done that, and if he doesn't remember doing it it's good he doesn't remember what it was for."

"Well maybe you should be a little more concerned about what else he doesn't remember," Kurt spat out, upset at Puck's obtuseness and apparent self-centeredness. "Like his family." He glanced down the hall where Rachel sat alone, slumped in a chair. "And his fiancée."

"It's before he joined Glee," Mercedes said sadly. "He won't remember any of us except the football players and the Cheerios."

"So isn't that great, Puckerman, when he gets out the two of you can go right back to throwing kids into dumpsters, like the good old days. Bring on the slushie facials." Kurt blinked back a few tears that were threatening to come, and Blaine put his arm around him for comfort.

"Hey, I'm sorry, Kurt," Puck said. "But you know I didn't mean it like that. Yeah, he'll know me, 'cause he's known me since we were kids. But excuse me for not feeling sad because the best and oldest friend I got has finally woken up, okay? Anything else, we can handle, we've been through a lot before." He looked over at Rachel, who seemed to be staring at the floor. "Though it's still gotta be hard on Berry, and she was already a wreck." They all knew Rachel had haunted the hospital since the ambulance had brought the pair of them in, sleeping either in a chair in Finn's room or alone in his bed at his home where news would come first.

"Right now she's just trying to have it be enough that he's alive and awake," Kurt said. "We all are. And you're right, it's so much better than the alternative. But it's hard, yes. Carole won't even let me see my brother right now since he doesn't know me and she doesn't want to have to tell him yet that she's remarried. And Rachel's just had the love of her life act totally stunned that he could possibly be engaged to her."

"She told him?" Santana asked.

"He saw the ring, she had to say something," Kurt replied. "And apparently the first person he asked for after he woke up was Quinn, and you can imagine how well Rachel took _that_."

"I'll go see how she is, Kurt," Mr. Schue said. "It's tough dealing with something like this alone." He broke from the group and approached Rachel.

"Rachel?" He touched her shoulder. "Kurt told us." Rachel nodded her head, biting her lip. "You'll get through it, I know you will," he said. "Both of you." He stepped back as Rachel rose, and he gave her a hug.

"Well he's awake," Rachel managed to say, her face twisted with conflicting emotions. "And the memory loss may just be temporary, they don't really know anything."

"That's the spirit," Mr. Schue said, doing his best to be encouraging. "Why don't you join the rest of us, Rachel," he said. "There's no reason you have to deal with this by yourself." Rachel nodded and walked with him back to the group, where she was greeted with hugs.

"How does he look?" Puck asked.

"He looks good," Rachel answered him. "Tired but otherwise alert. Like himself, mostly." She frowned a little, not wanting to get into what was missing from that 'mostly'. "But he's very confused."

"I have an idea," Mr. Schue said. "Look, none of us will be able to see Finn until tomorrow, so we need to distract ourselves. Why don't we put together a number for him? It'll be a way to sort of reintroduce him to us and what we've been doing without too much pressure. Something new for us so he'll enjoy it even if he wakes up tomorrow and remembers everything." The group perked up and responded positively. "And I'm sure you're just dying to sing to Finn, Rachel," he went on, nudging her.

This won a genuine smile from Rachel. "Well yes," she admitted. "I sang to him when he was in the coma but I have no idea if he heard me. It was really more to keep myself sane."

"Well working on this can help us do the same. Kurt, can you talk to his mother about it? Even if we have to wait until after he's out, it'll still be good to work on something for him, redirect all this energy we've got wasting. Nothing too symbolic or meaningful, just something fun to lift his spirits and ours." He smiled at the rest of them. "Now I know most of you have graduated but... choir room, _everybody_." He pointed at the elevator with both arms. The others responded with general laughter and moved off. He looked encouragingly at Rachel, who hadn't moved. "Come on, it'll keep you busy." She nodded.

Mr. Schue gave Rachel a ride, hoping to talk to her further, but she listened to her iPod the whole way to the school, frowning as she flicked between songs. She turned it off as they pulled into the parking lot. He looked askance at her, concerned by her silence.

"I'm trying to find a good song," she said seriously, the studious driven Rachel of old coming through despite her obvious physical and emotional exhaustion. "I have a copy of Finn's drum practice playlist and I've been listening to it for the last few days." Her voice broke a little at the end of that admission. She swallowed back a few tears.

"That's a good thought, Rachel. Any possibilities?"

"Some," she said. "I need to check with Noah. I'd like him to sing lead."

"Not you?"

"Noah can connect with the old Finn more easily and help him relax," she replied. "I heard what he said and he's right. Finn's awake and that's the essential. Anything else we just have to deal with." But her tone was noticeably grim.


	3. life redirected in ways unexpected

Finn was sitting up in bed the next afternoon, looking through the older songs on his iPod, when he heard a knock on the door. His mother had been by earlier that day, so he supposed it might be that girl again – Rachel – which got him nervous. He swallowed. "Come in."

The door opened, and a Mohawk-crested head poked in. "You decent, Hudson?"

"Puck!" Finn relaxed and beamed a smile at his old friend. "Great to see you, come on in!" He breathed a sigh of relief at seeing his best friend still acting like he was, despite Finn's involvement with one of Puck's old slushy victims. _Maybe that crap doesn't matter any more._

"It's damn good to see you too. You look great for a guy who spent four days not moving." Puck strolled to the bed and lounged in the chair next to it.

"Guess I scared a lot of people."

"You could say that. I knew it'd take more than that to keep you down, though."

Relaxed by their familiar rapport, Finn took a closer look at Puck. "What the hell is that on your head, Puckerman?"

"It's a mohawk, Hudson," Puck said. "I've had one for years, don't tell me you've forgotten that too."

"No, but you used to mow it more, and now it needs a weed whacker," Finn commented. He took in the changes in Puck: _yeah, he's older. And that hair sure wasn't there last week._ "Looks like someone taped parts of a dead skunk to your skull."

Puck leaned forward and pointed at Finn for emphasis. "Do not diss the 'hawk."

"Or what, you'll put me back into a coma?" Finn grinned.

Puck laughed and leaned back, sticking his feet up onto the edge of Finn's bed. "Nah, too much trouble. Way too many people who'd kick my ass if anything more happened to you."

Finn laughed. "Hey, quarterbacks get protected. One of the perks, right?"

"High school's over, QB. Didn't you get the memo?"

"Yeah, so I hear." Finn frowned momentarily. "So what've you been up to, Puck?"

"Hey, I graduated, dude. Lots of times I didn't think that was going to happen." Puck eyed his friend carefully. "Did a stint in juvie, decided I never want to go back to anything like that. Made some friends that are actually smart." Finn winced. "Let's see what else... I have a kid."

"What?" Finn couldn't believe his ears. "You actually have a kid? Holy shit."

"Hey, don't be so surprised. I got lots of action, figures at least one time it would take," Puck said. He fished out his phone and fiddled with it, then handed it to Finn.

Finn looked at the picture of a smiling Puck holding what looked like an eighteen-month-old girl. "Wow."

"Yeah, she's cute, huh? Her name's Beth." Puck took the phone back.

"What, like the Kiss song?"

"Yep. The woman who adopted her let me name her." Puck shrugged. "Well, I told her the name and she decided to go with it. Close enough."

"Adopted, huh?"

"Well yeah, not like I could really raise her," Puck replied. "Her mom's cool, though, she lets me see her. And she's Jewish, so Beth's being raised in the faith."

"Are you going to, uh, Jew church again?"

"Temple. No. Being proud to be Jewish doesn't mean I'm going to be bored yet another day of the week."

Finn laughed. "Some things don't change." He paused. "So, who'd you knock up? Anyone I know?"

Puck looked a little grim, and pulled his legs back to sit up in the chair. "Uh, yeah," he said. "Just relax, okay dude? 'Cause you're not going to like this, but it's a long time ago and we worked it all out, okay?"

Finn looked at his friend. _Why would – Oh._ His jaw dropped. "Quinn?"

"Yeah."

"What the hell, Puckerman!"

"Hey, you and Quinn didn't last very long," Puck said. "Either time. And you finally ended it when you dumped her for someone else."

"Huh." Finn calmed down, thinking. "So... you knocked up the _president of the Celibacy Club_?"

Puck laughed. "What can I say, dude, I like a challenge."

_Same old Puck. Only thing in all of this that seems to make sense._ Finn shook his head, still having a hard time seeing Quinn with Puck – he'd thought Quinn hated Puck. _Well I already knew we were done, I guess. _He took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly. "So how have you been staying out of trouble? And how'd you get these 'smarter friends'?"

Puck grinned. "I thought you'd never ask. All your fault, actually."

"_My_ fault?"

"Yeah, you know how you sing in the showers after practice, that old stuff your mom listens to?"

"It's called Classic Rock, Puckerman, and you like it too. Show some respect, those guys could actually write music. And what were you doing hanging around listening to me anyway?"

"Hey, your voice carries. Anyway, you like singing. You... decided to do more of it."

"What are you talking about, dude?"

"You became the first person to be part of the _most_ popular and _least_ popular groups at McKinley. At the same time."

Finn was bewildered. _What the hell is Puck talking about? Least popular group? – Shit, really? _"I joined Glee Club?"

"Yep. And what's worse, you got _me_ to join Glee Club."

"Did you carry a knife to keep Ryerson off you?"

"What? No, Ryerson got canned, Mr. 'roving hands' finally got ratted out. Mr. Schue took over."

"Mr. Schue... from Spanish class?"

"Yeah, that guy. And he likes Classic Rock too so the music got a lot better. So did the club." Puck winced ruefully. "Not much more popular, but a lot better. And... it's hard to admit it, but it's been a lot of fun. I like music."

"Huh."

"Still your fault I joined."

Finn smiled. "Bet it's not my fault you stayed."

"Maybe, maybe not. Anyway, yeah, it's the loser club, even with a few football players and cheerleaders added, but those guys are one smart bunch of losers. So it got me into one kind of trouble but kept me out of a whole lot more, probably." Puck shrugged. "And I really like working with music. We've had a good time."

"Huh."

"And..." Puck checked his phone for the time, and nodded to himself. He got up. "You mean a lot to these guys. You won't recognize most of them, but they sure know you, and..." he went to the door, opened it a crack, and looked out. He nodded again, then turned back to a curious Finn. "We did up a piece for you." Behind him the door opened, and a stream of older teenagers came in. Finn recognized a few of them: Santana, Brittany, Mike. That wheelchair guy, and the skinny pale boy who dresses weird. _Puck hangs around with these guys now?_ Three others, a black girl, a Chinese girl and a dark-haired boy, were complete unknowns. And he saw Rachel, who gave him a big smile as she went to stand at the edge of the group. Finally Mr. Schue closed the door and stood by it, nodding at Finn with a smile.

"We thought you'd like this one, Finn," the guy in the wheelchair said, smiling. "Feel free to play along." Puck pulled out a pair of drumsticks and handed them to him, then went to stand in front of the group. They all lowered their heads. After a moment they started chanting the beat,_ daa, daa, daa, __daa..._

Puck raised his head as he began singing slowly: (*)

_Standing in the rain with his head hung low  
Couldn't get a ticket it was a sold out show  
Heard the roar of the crowd he could picture the scene  
Put his ear to the wall then like a distant scream_

_He heard one guitar_

Puck put more energy into it and pointed at Finn, who grinned and started drumming along on cue, hitting various parts of his bed. He knew this one better than the back of his (older looking) hand.

_just blew him away  
Saw stars in his eyes  
and the very next day  
Bought a beat up six string in a secondhand store  
Didn't know how to play it but he knew for sure  
That one guitar felt good in his hands  
Didn't take long to understand  
Just one guitar slung way down low  
Was a one-way ticket, only one way to go_

The rest of the guys now joined Puck:

_So he started rockin' ain't never gonna stop  
Gotta keep on rockin'  
Someday he's gonna make it to the top_

On the chorus they all came in, except Rachel:

_And be a Juke Box Hero_

Rachel powered in with her line:

_**got stars in his eyes**_

Wow, quite the voice._  
_

_He's a Juke Box Hero  
He took one guitar  
Juke Box Hero  
**stars in his eyes  
**Juke Box Hero  
he'll come alive tonight_

The group resumed chanting the beat, with Puck solo in front.

_In a town without a name in a heavy downpour  
Thought he passed his own shadow by the backstage door  
Like a trip through the past to that day in the rain  
That one guitar made his whole life change_

The guys joined in:

_Now he needs to keep rockin' he just can't stop  
Gotta keep on rockin' that boy has got to stay on top._

And finally everyone, with Rachel taking her line as before:

_And be a Juke Box Hero  
**got stars in his eyes  
**He's a Juke Box Hero  
**got stars in his eyes  
**Yeah Juke Box Hero  
**stars in his eyes  
**With that one guitar  
he'll come alive  
Come alive tonight_

They finished suddenly, lowering their heads again.

Finn stared, awestruck, and a moment later clapped, echoed by the teacher at the door. The group raised their heads and smiled at him, then came to cluster around his bed. Rachel came close to him, standing at his right, and he could see a slight flicker in her eyes as she took a quick look over him. The guy in the wheelchair rolled to his left, with the teacher next to him.

"Hey Finn," the teacher said. "You look good."

"Mr. Schue," Finn replied. "From Spanish, right?"

"Back then," the man said, smiling. "These days it's Glee and History. Well, actually these days it's nothing since it's summer. But these guys, even those who have graduated and never have to do what I say ever again, wanted to let you know they'd been thinking about you, and this is how we do that."

"Well that was really great," Finn said enthusiastically. "Not what I remember about glee club, that's for sure. And some of you guys – I didn't know you could sing like that!"

"Or at all, I bet," Mike commented.

"Well, yeah." Finn shrugged ruefully, then smiled. "I'm finding out a lot of things. So I do this too, huh?"

"Ah, yes," Mr. Schue said. "You're actually really good."

"Wow. I mean I know I like to sing – never really thought about doing it in front of people." He was disconcerted at the chortle that came from Santana. "I'm more used to sitting behind the drums."

"Looks like your drumming's fine," the teacher commented, nodding at the sticks in Finn's hands.

"Yeah, well, I practice this piece a lot. Just the thing to get me going." Out of the corner of his eye, Finn saw Rachel smile happily.

"That was the idea," Puck said.

"Thanks." Finn flashed him a grin, his mouth curving up in his trademark half-smile. _Yeah I don't know a lot of these people, but it's comfortable. It's not so crazy even if it's strange._ "So, I'm sorry I don't remember a lot of you," he said, looking around at the group. "I know Puck of course, Mike, Santana, Brittany... and I met Rachel yesterday..." he saw her wince but quickly bring back her smile. It seemed a bit brittle, so he glanced apologetically at her before looking back at the others.

"I'm Artie," the guy in the wheelchair said, waving up at him.

"Tina," said the Chinese girl, standing close to Mike.

"Mercedes," said the black girl.

"Blaine," said the dark-haired boy.

The pale boy swallowed and exchanged a glance with Rachel next to him. "Kurt." He swallowed again. "So how are you doing, Finn?" he asked.

"Okay, I think," Finn answered. "Actually I feel great. Don't know what's wrong with me though, they've stuck my head into a couple of machines but so far they haven't found anything."

"I see."

"Wish I did. And I'm getting a little stir crazy stuck here. At least they're letting me wear my own clothes now. But there's not much to do." He exhaled. "I've got my iPod, not that I recognize it but it looks like it should be mine. There's some strange stuff on there, but I guess I must've been doing some of that with you guys."

"Probably," Mr. Schue said.

"But there's only so long I can stand just lying around, and I think I'm past that already. And they say it could be a few more days. Observation. Whatever."

"I'll talk to your mother and see what we can convince the hospital to let us bring in for you," Rachel said.

"Thanks." He flashed her a quick smile, which she tentatively returned.

"We should go, though, guys," Mr. Schue said, looking at the others. "The hospital's really stretching the visiting rules as it is, especially considering the noise. Finn, it's really good to see you. We miss you."

"Take care of yourself," Kurt said.

"I'll try," Finn replied. "Thanks for coming by, everyone. And thanks again for the song, it was great. Puck, can you stay a minute?"

"Yeah, sure dude," Puck answered. The others filed out and closed the door. "So what do you think?"

"It was great, really," Finn said. "Hell, you were great. I've never done anything like that." He caught Puck's amused look. "That I remember. I just sing to myself, drumming or in the shower. Never for an audience."

Puck laughed, and had a hard time stopping. "You have sung in front of thousands of people, dude," he said, still cracking up. "And it's not like you have a hard time performing with an audience, we get them for football."

"That's not the same."

"No. But you still got what it takes to do it."

Finn smiled a little, then frowned. "Puck... what do you think about Rachel?"

"Berry? What do you mean?"

"It's just that – I just remember seeing her at school, didn't even know her name, just that she got picked on a lot and she was supposed to be really annoying, then I wake up and I find that three years have gone by and we're _engaged_. It's freakishly weird. And she's not the kind of girl we used to go after, you know? I mean, she seems nice, and she's pretty..." Finn trailed off, not really sure what he was trying to say.

"Well who we used to go after were bitchy cheerleaders," Puck said. "And we used to bully half the kids that were just here, or ones just like them."

"Yeah." Finn was uncomfortable.

"Hell I used to throw Kurt into dumpsters, push Artie down stairs, and throw slushies in Berry's face. Those were the bad old days. I hope you don't miss them much, 'cause they're gone. Come on, I know you weren't all that comfortable with the sorts of things we used to do back then to maintain our image in the school. I was, kinda, but I was an asshole."

"And now?"

"I'm... less of an asshole," Puck said. "Hope so, anyway. And why the hell any of those guys put up with us after all the crap we pulled – okay, mostly me -" Puck shrugged. "Things have changed. Anyway, as for Rachel, the two of you have -"

Finn cut him off. "No, I want to remember myself, as much as I can," he said. "It's bad enough having a girl I don't know. But this has to be hard for her and she's hard to read, she's been so quiet."

"Berry? Quiet? Now there's something I never thought I'd hear," Puck said, laughing again. "She's not usually that quiet, hey you heard her sing just now, she's got one helluva voice." He sobered. "Look, yeah, this is hard on her, she's crazy about you, probably has been since she first heard you sing. And she's trying not to come on too strong. She's trying _hard_. That song – it's not the sort of stuff she normally does but she picked it out for you and got me to lead it, because she knew you could get into it. You should probably just accept that you're going to say the wrong things without knowing it, and not worry about it too much. Otherwise it gets nuts, you're worried, she's worried that you're worried..."

"And it's a big mess," Finn finished for him.

"The whole thing is a mess, just accept that and you'll be better off. Plus you should take a closer look at her. Berry's more sneaky-hot, not in-your-face-hot like people like Quinn and Santana, but hey... take a look at her in that cute sundress and then try to tell me you wouldn't want to tap _that_."

Finn stared at his friend. "I'm pretty sure at this point I should be kicking your ass for having dirty thoughts about my fiancée."

"Your fiancée that you don't remember and that your fifteen-year-old memory doesn't even feel old enough to have," Puck said, smirking. "Actually I'm encouraging _you_ to have dirty thoughts about your fiancée, which I'm pretty sure puts me in the clear."

"I shouldn't be having dirty thoughts like that about a girl I don't know. I'm sure just 'tapping that' isn't what she's looking for from me."

Puck shrugged. "So get to know her. Hey, it worked both ways, you were crazy about her too."

"It's not that easy, how do you get to know someone that already knows you?" Finn rubbed his hand over his hair in frustration. "I don't know her and I've never even had that serious a relationship. I feel like I'm hurting her when I talk to her, she wants something from me that I just can't give."

"Bet she still likes that better than you not talking to her."

"I guess." _But it's hard. All these people expect me to be that guy but I don't feel like him or really get him. _"Anyway, thanks Puck."

"Any time," Puck said. "I'll drop by tomorrow after work if you're still stuck here."

"Thanks." _I'm not going anywhere._

* * *

While Finn and Puck talked in his room, most of the others had left the hall outside, leaving only Rachel, Kurt, and Blaine.

"I hope I never have to go through anything like that again," Kurt said, his face pained.

"Hey..." Blaine tried to comfort him.

"I'm serious. Having to introduce myself to my own brother because he doesn't know me."

"I know, it's awful," Rachel said softly, giving him a hug.

Kurt hugged her back. "At least he's been told about you. Carole's got to tell him about me and Dad soon, this is just too hard."

"It's about what's best for Finn, not us," Rachel insisted.

"I don't see how not knowing his family is supposed to be good for him. Carole's being overprotective."

"Maybe. But brace yourself," Rachel said. "Once he knows, and you know he knows, and you can tell he's trying to deal with it and cover up how strange it is but it's Finn so his face is an open book..." she choked up, then looked at the floor. "That's hard too."

Kurt hugged Rachel again as she tried to recover her composure. "Well it's not going to get any better waiting for it," he said. "Since it looks like we're not getting lucky."

"He liked the song," Rachel said, momentarily forcing a small smile.

"Yes, good choice," Blaine responded encouragingly.

"And you were going to see what else you could bring in for him," Kurt said. "What else, he's got clothes, his iPod... he's not exactly a big reader."

"Except for drumming magazines," Rachel stated. "He has some favorites that should seem brand new. Some sports retrospectives should be good too, to catch him up on the last few years, especially baseball since it's on, so I'll see what I can find. And I don't know if the hospital will allow his xBox, but I'll try to convince them. We should be able to hook it up to the TV in his room, and it's not like his body is injured at all so there should be no danger in him using it. I didn't want to get his hopes up in case they won't allow it, but I need to get something in for him or he'll be climbing the walls by the end of tomorrow."

Kurt smiled at the determined look on her face. "Well I pity the hospital administrator who tries to tell you no." He sighed. "Let's head back home," he said. "I think Carole's there, Dad made her rest at least a little."

* * *

_* "Juke Box Hero", as performed by Foreigner, written by Lou Gramm and Mick Jones._


	4. a world so out of touch

_A/N: apologies for the delay, I had visitors and then I needed to revise the flow of these next few chapters._  
_Much thanks for all the positive feedback! I'm so happy that you're enjoying the story._

_Disclaimer: what I know about neurobiology would probably fit into a small thimble, but I've tried to make this sound plausible._

* * *

Early the next morning Finn had another series of brain scans, this time in something called a 'functional MRI' machine that was supposed to show what parts of his brain lit up when. Another doctor, a shrink, came in to ask him a lot of questions while the neurologist watched the scan results.

At first the questions were about the last few days, just since he'd come out of the coma, and this was fine; he repeated what he'd experienced, and they all seemed happy that he was laying down new memories without any difficulty. But then they started asking him questions about general events he'd forgotten (like think about performing, about winning a football game as quarterback, about graduation) and people (a long list of names, some he knew, some he'd just met, many he didn't know at all). Someone had been telling them what he had been told, he realized, though he was also asked a few other things that he didn't remember even hearing about. And many of the names: Zizes, St. James, Spencer, Jackson, Rafferty, McLeod, Evans, Motta... was he really supposed to know all those people?

"Just think about it or how it felt," the shrink advised. "Don't try to imagine it at all – it's important that you don't confuse memories and imagination. And some of the things and people we're asking about are as controls." Meanwhile the neurologist grunted at each stage. Stuck in the machine and keeping very still, Finn couldn't see his face but figured it was probably blank.

Once Finn was out of the machine, he was told that the neurologist would 'review the results' and talk to him soon, which meant nothing. The shrink stayed a little longer, repeating what he'd said before: that it was very important that he not try too hard to bring back memories to the extent that he might invent memories instead of truly remember.

"It's called confabulation, where you imagine what might have happened and merge it into your memories," the shrink said. "It's what some people who suffer from false memory syndrome do, it can create memories that feel just as real as actual ones. In your case false memories would likely get in the way of retrieving the real ones that you're not currently accessing."

"'Not currently accessing' – does that mean they're still there?" Finn grabbed onto those hopeful words.

The shrink frowned. "We can't be sure at this point. The neurologist is reviewing your scans and will talk to you later. Just don't dwell on the questions we were asking you or try to figure out what the answers should be or who those people might be."

_Whole lot of nothing, as usual._ Finn was shown back to his room, but immediately forgot his annoyance at the still-noncommittal doctors when he saw the surprise waiting for him. The first thing he noticed was the stack of magazines by his bed: drumming, sports, and a big thick "yearbook" issue on team profiles for MLB 2012. While baseball wasn't his favorite sport to watch, it was July, he remembered being told, immediately after the all-star game, so that's what would be on. _Cool._ Then he turned to the TV and saw something that made him smile even more – his xBox, sitting on a small table next to the TV on the wall, all hooked up, with a stack of games next to it. _Hell yeah._ If he was going to be stuck in here at least he had something to do. He flipped through some of the titles, seeing the familiar names but unfamiliar subtitles and sequel numbers. _Well one thing about not remembering is even old stuff is new._

But all the scans and questions had his mind tired, even if his body wasn't, so he flopped back onto his bed and reached for his iPod. It was a newer one, but the case was a bit beat up, like it had been rattled around inside something. Still worked fine though. Playlists..._hmm. Glee. Wow, that's a mixed set. Drumming, that's more like it, had that list for a while but there's new stuff on it, maybe I could work __on that in a bit. Driving. Yeah, guess I've been doing that a lot now since I'm eighteen – all I remember is Mom taking me out to practice. Guess the postal service is safe now if I'm better at it. Long playlist, good stuff. New – hey, a new Rush album, like actually new not just new because I've forgotten it. Unplayed. Maybe listen to that later so I can do something really new and feel less like an idiot. _He scrolled down further, and saw a succession of lists with the same name on them, Rachel. _Rachel - car. Rachel - mood. Rachel - musicals._ Why did he have so many of her playlists on his iPod? And finally, at the bottom, a list with a simple two-letter name: _Us._ The songs on it had been played a lot. _It does have a lot of Classic Rock, so not so bad..._ Finn scrolled down the list and saw a song he felt he was in the mood for, Styx's 'The Best of Times', so he pressed play and lay back to listen. (better that than their 'Too Much Time on My Hands', he figured, too close to how he felt. But right now he'd ignore the rest of the confusing world if he could.)

Inertia being what it is, he let the list move along from one song to the next. This was his kind of relaxation music, slower 80s rock songs mostly, the sort of stuff he'd grown up with listening to along with his mom. A little 38 Special, a little REO Speedwagon, quite a lot of Journey, some Queen and some Cheap Trick...

A few songs later he heard the opening notes of 'Faithfully', one of his favorite Journey songs. But the man he heard next as the singing started wasn't Steve Perry, which piqued his curiosity. The young man's voice did sound pretty familiar though, weirdly so. A few phrases later a woman sang, powerful, emotional, sort of familiar, like he'd heard her just... _yesterday_... like... – _**Rachel**__? _And the guy joining back in, sounding emotional too – _**No. Freaking. Way.**_ He checked the listing. _Shit._ Because there it was, in black and white, the artist listing: Finn Hudson and Rachel Berry. He jerked his headphones off in a hurry, in shock, and stopped play. This was really freaking creepy, listening to himself singing something he didn't remember – hell, he didn't even remember sounding that good. Sure, after yesterday he kind of understood he'd been singing with Glee Club, he'd certainly believed what Puck had told him and it seemed okay, but listening to it was a different thing entirely.

And a love duet with the girl he was apparently now engaged to. Just... **_no. _**Way too spooky, like a Twilight Zone episode or something, viewing or hearing his own life without remembering it, or having to watch himself while someone else controlled what he did and who he was. That man, that voice – it wasn't him. And this was the sound of that other Finn and that girl committing themselves to each other, in that song. He hadn't done that himself, that other Finn had done it for him.

Finn decided to give the music a rest for now, and turned on his xBox. Shooting things up should help him forget the creepiness of hearing himself. And the games – _hey, a new Call of Duty._ Well new to him anyway. He started it up and began a new solo mission, breathing easier as he lost himself in the familiar motions, keeping watch for the enemy and blowing them away.

After several rounds of the game, Finn heard a knock at his door, and put the game on pause. "Come in," he called out.

"Hey kiddo," his mom said, coming in and over to him. "Having fun I see."

Finn smiled. "Yeah, it's great," he said. "Better than just sitting around anyway, I'm glad you got them to let me have it."

"That wasn't me," Carole admitted.

"What?" _Oh._ Finn exhaled. "Rachel, huh?" _Everything seems to involve Rachel._

"She's trying to get you access to the exercise machines too, but she's running into the physiotherapy schedule. You found yourself a very determined young lady."

"I guess so," Finn said hesitatingly. "I wish I remembered her." _Especially since she's, like, __**everywhere.**_

"Hopefully that will come, in time." Carole sat in the chair next to his bed. "Is anything more coming back?"

"Not that I can tell," Finn frowned. "Even this version of the game seems brand new." He looked thoughtful. "I'm good at it though," he said. "Better than I remember being at previous ones, I mean. And there are some places in it where I seem to know what to do even though I don't remember seeing the scenario before."

"That's good, honey. Motor skills and unconscious memories, maybe. That's really good."

Finn exhaled and smiled at his mother. "Okay then."

She smiled back at him. "I never thought the day would come where I'd want you to play _more_ of your videogames."

Finn laughed a little. "Yeah, probably not."

A brief knock at the door drew their attention, and the neurologist came in. "Finn, Mrs. Hu-, uh, Carole," he said, nodding to them both.

"Is there news?" Carole asked, starting to look hopeful.

"Some," the doctor answered, smiling at her a little. "It's good that you're here." He turned to Finn. "Now this is just preliminary, but we do see a marked difference in some of your brain scans from the functional MRI scans this morning, Finn."

"Difference?" Finn asked, puzzled and concerned. _That doesn't sound good._ He felt his mother's hand on his arm.

The neurologist saw his fear, and moved to reassure him. "It's a promising sign, actually," he said. He clipped two scan images up for display; the left one showed very little lit up, while the right one showed a lot more. "Here's an example of what your scans show. Both of these are for names of people you didn't recognize," he went on. "But the left one is for someone you haven't met or heard of, one of the controls. The right one is for someone you have met, someone we've been told you used to know."

"There's a lot more activity," Carole said, sounding excited.

"Yes," the neurologist agreed. "Quite a bit in the centers associated with memory, and a lot in this area of the brain," he said, pointing, "that is typically an emotional center."

"So I know that person," Finn said slowly, sinking down to sit on the bed. He looked over at his mother, then up at the neurologist. "I know him. Or her. Who is it?"

"I can't tell you," came the reply. "You shouldn't know, it would compromise future tests if you did."

"Oh. Okay, I guess that makes sense," Finn responded, though he couldn't help wondering about it, especially with all the activity showing in the 'emotional center', all for someone who's name he hadn't recognized. "But why don't I remember if the scan shows that I do? I didn't even feel anything about any of those names."

"I don't know," the neurologist admitted. "There is still a lot we don't know about the workings of the human brain. But even if you're not able to access those memories, it does seem as though at least some of them are still there. The neurons are firing even though the results aren't making it through. And the results are consistent. The real things and people you should know show significantly more brain activity than the controls. All of them."

"So he could remember," Carole said.

"We don't know. The physical scans suggest that there might have been a little minor swelling, though nothing that we would expect could explain these results. But in a way he does remember, he just doesn't know that he does." The neurologist looked back at Finn. "I wish we had something more definite and positive for you, Finn. But when it comes to issues regarding the brain, the definite answers are often negative."

Finn exhaled in a rush. "So... now what?" he asked. "I mean, is there anything we can do? And can I go home soon?"

"There isn't anything specific we can do, no. Dr. Belhaven – he was the psychiatrist talking to you earlier – he will set you up with some counseling sessions, discuss how you think, keep track of what you're remembering and when, and see if you might be able to connect with those memories in some way. He's working up a plan for you. But it will likely take a lot of time, and there's no guarantee of any progress."

"Oh."

"As for going home, we'd like to keep you here for two more days, just in case there is some residual swelling we can't see, but you should be able to go home the day after tomorrow unless something comes up before then. And that should be good for you, to get some structure back in your life and get back into the home routine." The doctor looked cautiously optimistic at this, but Finn felt that this was a faint hope. Still, he was looking forward to getting out of the hospital and back to whatever remained of his life.

The neurologist excused himself, leaving Finn alone with his mom again.

"Hey," she said, looking down at him. "I know that frown. How do you really feel?"

"Honestly? It feels like some alien took over my life for me, Mom. And now it turns out it's still living in part of my head."

Carole sat beside him. "That's not an alien, Finn, that's part of you. Your experiences."

Finn exhaled. "I know," he said, still frowning. "But if I think about it like that then it's like I'm incomplete. Broken. But I don't feel broken, I feel like me. I just – want to live my life, I guess. And it's like I didn't, like someone else lived almost three years of it for me." He groaned. "At least I'll be back home soon, I can't wait." But as soon as Finn had said that he looked at his mother and saw her trepidation. "What is it, Mom? What's wrong?"

"Finn... there are a few more things I need to tell you about what's happened in the last three years," she replied, looking at him for a reaction.

"There's _more_? You're starting to scare me Mom." Finn swallowed. "Hey, we're here, right? And you seem fine, great even. What's going on?"

Carole pressed her lips together, then took a deep breath. "A little over two years ago I met someone," she said carefully. "A man a little older than me, a widower with a son your age."

Finn was surprised, but one more thing made sense now. "Was that him? The dude with you when I woke up, that I didn't recognize?"

"Yes, that was Burt. Burt Hummel." Carole exhaled. "We really hit it off. And he's a wonderful man, very kind, he's good to me and to you as well. You get along great with him too, you go to games together sometimes, that sort of thing. He owns a tire shop in town and you've been working there, part-time during school."

"Uh, okay."

"And we fell in love, and we're married. Burt and I. We got married in November 2010, so we've been married for just over a year and a half now." Carole caught Finn's gaze dropping to her left hand. "I took the ring off so you wouldn't get spooked."

"You hid it from me?" Finn's mind was reeling again, and he felt hurt by what he was now finding out, both his mother's remarriage and that she'd been deceiving him. Change was piling on top of change, every time he thought he'd found an anchor it faded away.

"Just for a couple of days, until we had a better idea if you were going to remember things soon on your own."

Finn sat there for a few moments, his head bowed, looking at his knees. He finally raised his head to look at her. "So what does this mean?" he asked, his face twisted in emotion and confusion. "It's all different now, home too?" _Everything. Nothing about my life is what I know. God. Now what, what do I do?_

Carole moved closer to her son, and put her hand on his. "A lot is different, yes," she said. "We moved in together, so home isn't where you remember it is. Or how you remember it is. I know for your whole life it's just been you and me, and we've done fine, and we still are. But now we have more. A real family – not that you and I weren't a real family, but now we have more of one."

"You said he has a son my age?" Finn focused on the facts to try to stop from feeling like he was drowning.

"That's how we met, he's one of your classmates. Clubmates, actually. Kurt Hummel, he said you met yesterday. He's your stepbrother."

_That pale kid is my stepbrother? Huh. No wonder he looked so awkward, I thought he hated me or something but I guess not. Or I hope not._ "Do we get along?"

"Yes, you do," she answered. "It was difficult at first, especially until we found a larger place, but you worked things out and you're really close now." She smiled. "You're very different boys. Young men. And as only children with a single parent, neither of you had really had to share before. But you spend a lot of time together. And of course you were in Glee together, that's how you got to know each other and how Burt and I met."

"Whoa."

"Yes, it's a lot to take in at once." Carole squeezed his hand. "But I thought I should tell you now, to give you some time to absorb it before you come home."

_Home. Not the home I remember, though. It won't feel like home. _"So where is home?"

"We found a larger place that had room for all four of us," she explained. "It's on Whitman, about a mile from our old place, closer to McKinley. It's nice. You've got more space, even a bed that's big enough for you."

_What about Dad? _Finn wanted to ask, but that sounded dumb, to worry about a man who'd been dead for so long, that he didn't even remember. _Still..._ "Do you still think about Dad?" Finn asked quietly. "Do we still miss him?"

"Of course we miss him, honey," Carole said. "We always will. And Burt and Kurt miss Elizabeth, Burt's first wife. She died from cancer ten years ago. But there's remembering the past, and there's living in the past. Loving Burt doesn't mean we love your Dad any less."

"Burt – am I supposed to call him 'Dad'? Do I?"

"No, you don't. You call him Burt, and Kurt calls me Carole. Burt calls you 'son' sometimes, but that's mostly just how he talks, he did that before we got married too." Carole dug into her purse and brought out her wedding ring. "Here's the ring," she said, putting it on.

Finn looked at his mother's hand, wondering what he'd thought about this before. But his only reaction was confusion as he felt he'd been set completely adrift from the life he knew. "Huh," he said, trying to look calmer. But his mother wasn't fooled.

"Hey, I know this is really confusing for you, Finn," she said, putting her hand on his arm. "You don't need to pretend, okay? But you needed to find out now so you can get a bit more used to the idea before you come home."

Finn sighed. "Yeah, I guess so," he replied slowly. He swallowed. "Can – can I meet him?"

Carole smiled broadly. "Of course. Tomorrow? He wants to come see you soon. You're probably all tired out today, even though it's barely lunchtime."

"Sure."

She gave him a hug and left.

Finn was forced to admit that he was tired; everything so far today had been so much to take in, and he'd been told he was still recovering from the accident. He saved his game status, lay down, and nodded off. But with all he felt, rest was not easy. He tossed and turned, sliding in and out of sleep, dreaming of how his life had vanished. He felt he was in his old bed, hemmed in by its shortness, but when he stretched he seemed to break out of it, and the familiar cowboy wallpaper started peeling off, first by itself and then torn away by a tall figure that finally turned to him so he could see its face, his own...


	5. time has passed me by

_A/N: Much thanks for all the reviews, they really keep me writing!_

* * *

Finn awoke with a start, trying to banish the dream from his mind. He turned over, and saw that it was (or had been) lunchtime; his full lunch tray sat on the table, left there by one of the orderlies who apparently had decided not to wake him. _Not that the sleep did me any good._ He got up and went to investigate the food. _Cold to begin with, chicken sandwich... coleslaw... jello..._ Normally he liked jello but it was such a hospital food cliche. It's not like he would have a hard time eating something more substantial. And apple juice. He sat down and ate it though, drinking the juice down too, and it was fine, just boring. And not all that much of it, shouldn't they have heard about his appetite from his mom? He'd met some of her nursing friends before and they'd laughed about it, kinda annoying at the time but it meant they'd known. If there was one thing that couldn't have changed in the almost three years he didn't remember, it was his appetite.

Still, he felt a lot better for having eaten, it had been a long time since breakfast since the tests had started early. At least none of the tests had been the sort where you had to starve yourself for a day first, he'd've collapsed. And this had to be better than still getting 'fed' by the IV like he had been when he'd only just come out of the coma.

Finn went back to the bed, and found it easier to relax. He idly wondered if you could get nightmares from hunger – he'd never heard of anything like that, but if anyone could it'd probably be him. Still, the other self in his dream, destroying his old room like he felt had been done to his life, that had seemed so real and terrifying. He tried to put that out of his head, thinking instead about the food he'd be able to have once he was let out in two days, and fell asleep again to dream of a large juicy hamburger.

He awoke again about an hour later, feeling a lot more refreshed, his mind much more alert as well. Maybe that was what he'd needed most, some food and sleep. But now he needed to occupy himself, especially to take his mind off that morning, of the things lurking in his brain and of how his life had almost completely changed on him. He started up his xBox again, but found himself cringing at the thought of playing more CoD on his own; right now it just made him think too much about his dad and the news of his mom's remarriage. So, Finn turned it off again and looked around to find something else to do. The TV was a possibility, but most afternoon shows were crap, and he couldn't find any sports on that appealed.

Finn stretched his arms and legs out, and rolled his shoulders, feeling restless. He was certainly sick of being stuck in this boring hospital room. Maybe he could go somewhere, even just down the hall or to the cafeteria, it's not as if he was actually sick. Besides, at least half the staff knew his mom, at least they used to, and he knew his way around the visitor areas and even some of the staff rooms. Walking around the halls would be a lot more familiar than being in the room, and even after three years he should still know quite a few of the staff, why not go see some of them?

But as soon as he took a step out from his door, the nurse at the nearby nursing station noticed and came over to chastise him.

"You need to stay in your room, Mr. Hudson," she said, keeping it formal. But that was ridiculous, this was Cathy Lister and she'd known him since he was ten.

"Come on, Cathy," he cajoled. "I'm not really sick and I won't leave the building or wander off or anything like that, I'm not demented. It's just so boring being stuck in there, even with stuff to do." He saw her frown. "How am I supposed to get my head around everything that's changed on me if all I know is what people come in and tell me? I know my way around here better than anywhere, it's not like I'll get lost."

"Finn..." she dropped the formality, which at least was something. "It's doctor's orders and you know we have to follow those." She put her hand on his arm, guiding him back into his room. "You also know how much extra work it is when patients don't stay where they're supposed to be."

Yes, Finn had heard his mom's horror stories about that, and most importantly he remembered her being quite late coming home from work, several times, all because they'd had to hunt for someone who wasn't in his or her room when supposed to be. He sighed. "Okay, I suppose," he said resignedly.

"And everyone knows Carole's boy was the one in a coma for four days – I'd be fielding calls about you every five minutes if you start wandering around. I know it's dull, Finn, but you have to stay put. You have more things to occupy you than anyone gets normally."

"Yeah, I get it. Sorry. But it'd be good to see people, some of the staff I mean, if anyone wants to come by..." he trailed off.

"People are busy, and we don't want them just barging in. But," she continued, seeing Finn's frown, "I'll see if there are some that might be able to drop in discreetly. Just to say hi."

"Thanks Cathy, that'd be great." He nodded at the nurse, who smiled back and left. But then he dropped back down onto his bed and sighed. Stuck in his room, all he could do was think about all he'd been told had changed and worry about how much else there was and whether he'd like any of it. Still... _Old life, new life... any life has to be better than being stuck here._ Even worried about how different a home was waiting for him now, he still wanted to get out of the hospital and 'back' to wherever it was. He'd still have a room, and his stuff, right? And he'd be able to go look around and see things for himself, talk to some people, even if they knew things about him that he didn't that would be better than this. He could establish a life of some sort, do something about things that had changed if he didn't like them. Right now he felt like he was in some sort of weird stasis at everyone else's mercy.

But since he was stuck here for the next couple of days, he needed to get through it somehow. Maybe there was another game that wouldn't make him miss his dad. He picked up the small set of xBox games and took a closer look. _Football, that's more like it_, he thought as he spotted the NFL 11 game. He read the back of the box and grinned. _Quarterback POV, running plays on the field... my kind of game._ He got the hang of it pretty quickly and was soon running plays successfully, though less successful as it got more challenging. Eventually he decided that it was enough for now, it was a good start and his hands were getting a little twitchy.

He moved back to the table and flipped through the stack of magazines, checking out the sports and drumming titles. _Hmm, Modern Drummer May 2010, good features._ He started leafing through it. It looked well-read, and he checked the cover again – no wonder, there was the mailing label addressed to him. Guess he hadn't become so different if this was what he clearly liked and they'd brought in for him. He settled back in the chair and started to read the main interview.

After a while a knock came at the door, and Finn put the magazine down. Puck had said he'd try to come by, he remembered, though he wasn't sure when. "Come in."

The door opened and he saw someone quite different from his friend, a small brunette with a bright if hesitant smile, taking a few brisk steps into his room. _Oh._ "Uh, hi, Rachel," he said, trying not to recoil at seeing her. _It's not her fault_, he told himself. _Try to roll with it. Better than being alone anyway._

"I brought you some food, Finn," she explained, holding out a paper fast food bag. Even from the chair he could smell the burger and fries, favorites just like he'd been dreaming of earlier, and his stomach rumbled in response. "Hospital food is dismal at the best of times. I know you're probably getting out in two days, your mother said that's likely, but I wouldn't want you to starve before then."

_Hey, she got the good stuff, just like I was thinking about_, he thought. _Gotta eat it, right? _"Ah, thanks." She came towards him, still smiling, and sat down with him at the table and brought out a salad for herself. They ate quietly together for a while, Finn trying not to be bothered by her presence. Food was a good distraction from all he'd been thinking before about her.

When they finished, he looked over at her. "That was great, thanks again. The food here is okay I guess but there's not very much of it." Rachel laughed; it sounded nice, musical, but he tried not to think about her voice and especially not about that song he'd heard them singing together. "So... my mom says you're the one who convinced them to let me have my xBox," Finn said haltingly. "Thanks." He winced a little at himself; it seemed that 'thanks' was the main word he had to say to her. _Could be worse I guess, she knows what I like and I still seem to like the same things._ He started to relax.

Rachel smiled a little. "I could tell you needed it," she said. Then she grinned. "I'm quite sure they agreed just to get me to stop bothering them about it," she continued impishly. "It's a gift I suppose, even if I did scare them. And clearly they wouldn't have allowed it if they thought it would cause you any sort of problems, so they shouldn't have refused in the first place. Institutional policies can be so stupid."

"Sounds like you went to a lot of trouble."

Rachel raised her eyebrows. "Doing that? That was nothing. Especially not for you, I'd do anything to help you." She met his eyes. "Even not remembering, you should realize that I would," she finished, speaking softly.

He knew his mom would, she had all his life – but having someone else that would do anything for him, that was new. The idea of finding someone like that didn't seem real, even when she was apparently right in front of him. Rachel was looking at him as if she expected some sort of response. "I suppose so," he mustered. "If I think about it like that." _I don't understand it though._ He swallowed. "We've been together a while, huh?"

"Yes," Rachel answered. She swallowed and pursed her lips. "Not continually, though. Finn..." she exhaled. "I know we're not supposed to be telling you details of things that happened to you, so you can remember properly," she said. "But..." she pouted a little. "There are some things I want you to know from me, because I don't want you to hear about them from anyone else, and if you remember them first I don't want you to think I was hiding anything or that it defines us. But I also don't want to overwhelm you."

Finn exhaled. _A little late for that._ This was a day for getting told about things, it seemed. _Might as well roll with it at this point._ "Okay, I suppose," he said. "What is it?"

"We split up for a lot of junior year," she continued. "Things went... bad, and we were hurting each other. In your case it was accidental, but it seemed like you didn't care, and then I was deliberate." She frowned. "Heat of the moment, and I was hurting myself too as well as you. But we never stopped being in love, that's why everything hurt so much, and eventually we got past everything else and were back together stronger than ever. Stronger than I'd ever thought possible even before we broke up. And we haven't looked back since."

Finn looked at the floor, then back at her. "What did I do?" he asked softly. Yeah the whole situation with her was strange, but he didn't like the idea that he'd hurt her. Or anyone.

"You slept with Santana," Rachel said, her face set.

_What?_ "I _accidentally_ slept with Santana?"

"That wasn't the accidental part. We weren't together then, though we really should have been, that was a whole different mess. But then we were together, and you still let me believe that you hadn't, and it was important to me. Eventually it got shoved in my face and -"

"- and you thought I didn't care." He could sort of talk about this. It didn't really sink in, though. And sleeping with Santana? Well, she was really hot, but he'd never been interested in her, or in any of the girls who seemed to give it up for anyone. He'd much rather be special.

Rachel nodded. "I felt very... undesirable. Unwanted. Like I was good for an official girlfriend but not what you really wanted. Which turns out to have been extremely far from the truth, but as I said, I was very hurt. Santana was extremely vicious, she also included the information that nobody even liked me."

Finn looked at her, hearing the small catch in her voice, seeing the tears spring to her eyes as she remembered the pain of that time. And he certainly knew Santana could be mean, it was a big part of her rep, though maybe she wasn't any more. "Which also was extremely far from the truth?" he said hopefully. He knew Rachel had been one of the outcasts at school, though he couldn't understand why, especially now that he'd actually met her; while he was disturbed by their relationship he didn't find her annoying at all like people had always said. Anyway nobody deserved to be treated that badly.

"It became far from the truth, and Santana and I are even friends now. It wasn't so far off then."

"So what did _you_ do?" Finn looked at her.

"Kissed the one person who said otherwise."

"To feel like someone actually wanted you," Finn mused, and Rachel nodded, her eyes closed. "Puck," he stated.

Rachel's eyes flew open, suddenly alert. "How – how do you know? Do you remember?" Her voice was now free from the pain of the recollection, and instead flooded with hope.

"It's what Puck does, go after the vulnerable ones," Finn answered. "Sorry, still don't remember any of it, but I can see why you'd want to tell me." Should he care that Puck had moved in on her like that, or that she had? Probably. But it was what Puck did, and he didn't remember it or how it felt. It didn't seem like a big deal now, though it might have been for a version of him who'd been in love with her.

"Oh." Rachel sounded despondent. "But yes, he's good at that. He does really care about people, though, he just doesn't show it in healthy ways usually. And it was short, he knew we still loved each other and stopped. Because of you. Your friendship means a lot to him, you're really the first person who hasn't disappointed him."

Finn nodded silently. "So..." he said eventually. "We took a break but got back together because we were still in love." He said the words, but flatly; they didn't mean anything to him.

"Yes. Once we got past the point of hurting each other and knew how we felt."

"And some time later I asked you to marry me."

Rachel smiled a little and glanced down at the ring on her hand. "Yes. In January."

"I guess if we got through what you just told me, we could probably get through a lot more."

"I hope so." Rachel pursed her lips. "I just hope we can get through _this_." She took a deep breath. "There's nobody else for me but you, Finn," she stated, looking straight into his eyes. "There can't be. I know this is a lot to lay on you, when you don't remember us at all, but I didn't move on back then because I couldn't, and that's not going to change, if anything it's become even more impossible. My heart has this indelible mark on it that says 'Property of Finn Hudson'."

_Wow_, Finn thought, but said nothing. _What can I say?_

"And my heart is all the better for it, too. Loving you is a joy."

"Bet it isn't right now," Finn muttered. "Sorry."

Rachel winced. "Does having you forget me hurt? Yes. But if I could forget you too, I would refuse. My world is better knowing you exist even if it hurts."

_Wow. That's unreal. And am I supposed to feel the same way about her? I don't know if I can feel that way, that much, about anybody._ "I don't want to hurt you," he said lamely.

"I know. And I know you don't mean to. Don't worry, I'm not going to do anything stupid this time, it was a hard lesson but I've learned it well. Whatever you need, just know that I'm here, and I can wait as long as you need me to."

Finn looked briefly into her eyes, seeing the sincerity, then lowered his head in an embarrassed reflex. He looked at the table; he had no idea how to cope with the obvious extent of her devotion to him.

Rachel followed his gaze and gathered the food wrappers. "I'll get rid of these – there isn't normally any problem bringing in outside food but it's probably best not to rub it in their faces. Same again tomorrow?"

"Sure," Finn gave her a quick smile. "Thanks."

"Are you okay? Do you need anything else?"

"Everything's fine. I mean, aside from the obvious. Thanks again."

"You're welcome." She gave him another smile and left.


	6. a certain measure of tolerance

The next morning Finn slept in a little, then had a meeting with the psychiatrist, Dr. Belhaven, in the shrink's office downstairs. He took his time getting there, enjoying being out of his room. Dressed normally and walking the familiar halls, he could even pretend for a moment that he hadn't spent the last few days stuck in one of the patient rooms.

The psychiatrist was very calm as he explained the situation. As the neurologist had said previously, there wasn't anything that they could promise. However, the shrink was more hopeful about the potential for recovery, especially since the scan evidence indicated the presence of at least some of the memories.

Finn then got a lot of information about how they should proceed now. Regular weekly visits to start, and he should keep a daily log of things he remembered or even impressions that might be related to memories, how he felt about things from his missing past, which in Finn's case meant just about everything in his new life. He didn't necessarily have to tell the shrink all of them, but he should at least write them all down.

Relaxation was key, apparently, and Finn felt he should be able to do that. If something came back he should just let it flow, see where it leads. Explore it a little and try to have it be concrete. That seemed a little contradictory, don't try too much but also nail newly remembered things down, but apparently it would make more sense in practice and had to do with how memories often linked together. And it was early, they would work on it more during later appointments.

The final piece of advice was to not think badly of himself for any of this, including seeing a psychiatrist. Apparently far more people did than you'd think, and even more should if they could get past the negative associations. The brain could have things wrong with it just like any other part of a person, it was just a lot harder to diagnose and treat. Of course a shrink would say that, but it seemed okay.

It was all a lot to take in, but Finn dutifully took the notes, handouts, and a copy of his appointment schedule, and vowed to at least give it a good try. Except he wasn't supposed to try too hard to remember since he might make stuff up if he wasn't careful, and the invented memories could ruin his chances of remembering the real ones. Or something like that. It sounded ominous, but since he'd been told not to worry too much, Finn decided to put at least that into practice right away.

* * *

After lunch Finn was reading up on the last year of NFL football when he heard a knock, and he invited whoever it was in by reflex. He raised his head to see an older man, stocky, wearing a baseball cap and regular clothes; the same man he'd seen with his mom when he woke up. This must be Burt, his mom's new husband.

"Hey Finn," Burt said.

"You're Burt, right?" Finn replied. "You're my stepfather, Mom says." _Stepfather. _That word sounded so strange for him to say.

"That's right," Burt said, coming toward him, holding out his hand. Finn rose from his chair and shook it. "I just thought I'd drop by to see you. I know you asked, but I'd've wanted to come by anyway, let you get to know me again and see if you have any questions. You're the man of the family, after all, so I figure there might be some things you want to know about this guy who married your mom."

"Such as?"

"Anything," Burt said, sitting down with Finn. "My life's an open book. I know most people are probably deciding for themselves what to tell you, leave out the bad stuff or whatever, but I leave it up to you. Take control."

"Ah, okay," Finn replied. Having control was good, and really unusual right now. But being able to ask anything didn't give him much to start from, so he went with what he'd been told already as a lead-off. "So... Mom says you own a tire shop," Finn said. "And I work there for you."

"Yes. Well, you worked there part-time during school and this summer you were working there full-time. It's not a permanent gig though, it would be if you wanted it, you're good and I trust you, but you can do whatever you want."

"Huh."

"And -" Burt cut himself off. "Sorry, wanted to let you ask."

Finn rolled his eyes. "You might as well go ahead."

"I'm also in Congress. It's pretty new, I won a special election last fall and started in January. I'm back in the constituency right now."

"Wow. Ohio State Congress?"

"U.S. Congress, actually. Someone was running pushing ideas we disagreed with, so I put my name in and won. I've been pretty involved in the local small business community for a long time, and that helped." Burt smiled. "So I'm your congressman. If you ever need anything from the US Government, I'm the person you'd talk to about that."

"Whoa. Mom didn't mention anything about that."

"Well it's pretty new, and she did dump a lot on you already. I don't really feel like a congressman yet. But that's probably a good thing, stay normal. Some of the others have been there for decades and I understand half of what they say if I'm lucky."

_Wow. Well he does seem like a good regular dude, probably a good representative._ Finn searched for something else to ask. "So how long have you known my mom?"

"Since February twenty-ten, so almost two and a half years. We got married that October."

"That's fast."

Burt grinned. "Yeah, I guess. But I don't have to tell you how great your mom is, how special. You find that, you don't wait. It wasn't long before we knew we were the real deal. And I had a heart attack that fall, it really reminded us what matters."

"A heart attack? Is everything okay with that now?" Finn was concerned, this dude was his stepfather after all. And he seemed nice, and his mom loved him.

"Pretty much. It's never 100% after, of course, but Kurt – my son – he keeps on me about my diet and exercise, staying healthy, and your mom helps too. Kurt even gets me to keep a log of what I do in D.C., and I have to admit it's tough to stick to the plan there, our nation's government is run by people with long working hours and bad eating habits. But I have a lot to live for so I do it the best I can."

"I don't help with that?"

"You can eat anything and you usually do, so you're a bit of a bad influence. But you try to keep it to yourself when Kurt's having me eat rabbit food, which is about as much as I could expect. There's no need for you to pile on too, it's nice to have one member of the family who isn't watching every forkful I eat."

"Who's running the shop while you're in D.C.?"

"I have people. You help, at least you did. You could again if you want."

Finn shook his head. "I don't remember any of that."

"It's changing tires, it's not rocket science. And some other stuff, wheel balancing, that sort of thing, but you took to it really quickly before. And I know you'd let me know if you had any problems."

"Huh."

"Just an offer, don't want to rush you. You probably have plenty of that from everyone else."

"Yeah, everything's... really a lot to take in." Finn smiled sheepishly. "And I don't even know what more to ask about."

"You don't have to ask everything at once. I thought we could watch the game. Cards at Reds, it should be on."

"Hey, sure," Finn said, turning the TV on. He grabbed the remote and fiddled with it. "Um..."

"A few higher."

Finn flipped the channel up three more times, and found the game. "Right."

Burt smiled and settled back in his chair as Finn moved his chair around to get a better view. Finn grabbed the MLB yearbook, flipping to the Reds page to check on the roster. _This is comfortable,_ he thought, watching the next pitch, a strike, listening to the announcers discuss the pitcher's statistics. "Do we do this much?"

"Kick back and watch the game? Yeah. Not so much since I've been in Congress, I'm away a lot, but we do when we can. It's nice."

"Yeah," Finn replied quietly, starting to smile. _And he's really easy to talk to._

In fifteen minutes they were both cursing the clumsiness of the Reds' left outfielder, and Finn was at ease. It felt normal.

* * *

After the game Burt left, but it wasn't long before Puck stopped by.

"Hey dude," Puck said, walking over to where Finn was still looking through the MLB yearbook. "Reading? You must be desperate."

"Catching up," Finn protested, holding up the thick magazine so Puck could see the cover.

"Oh, yeah, that makes sense," Puck admitted. He looked down at the other magazines on the table and poked through them. "So do these, actually, great stuff. Sorry I couldn't make it yesterday, I finally had a clear day and a whole lot of pools to clean."

Finn shrugged. "No problem. It's not like I was going anywhere."

"Hey, I said I was sorry," Puck frowned. Then he brightened. "But now I can stay until they kick me out, so how about a game?" He brought his xBox controller out from his jacket pocket and unwrapped the cord.

"Sure," Finn grinned, and got up to rearrange the chairs.

"Gotta hand it to your girl," Puck said, plugging his controller in. "She sure knows how to get things done, convincing them to let you have this."

"She, uh, told you?"

"She told me she was going to try. Same thing really, for her anyway."

"Huh."

Puck flipped through the stack of games. "Now here's one you should remember," he said, holding up Halo 3. "Four's still not out yet, though there have been some spinoffs."

"Really?" Finn found it hard to believe that any of his knowledge was still current.

"Yep. Come on, I'll even let you play the Chief first time." Puck put the game in and got it ready to go as Finn settled in his chair. Finn grinned, happy at the sight of the intro he knew, and started to play.

They played several levels, their familiar rapport energizing Finn, until they were distracted by a knock at the door.

"Yeah, come in," Puck called out, then grinned as Finn threw a mock glare at him and put the game on pause.

The door opened to reveal Rachel, carrying a fast food bag. "Oh," she said, seeing the pair of them clearly in the middle of their game. "I brought your burger, Finn," she continued, coming in.

"Hey, thanks, Rachel," Finn said, smiling at her as she walked over to him.

"Hey, what about me?" Puck protested, making a halfhearted grab for the bag as she handed it to Finn.

"I'm sure you can feed yourself, Noah," Rachel said archly.

"Oh, come on, we're right in the middle of a game. If I don't have my own I'll just steal half of his, so do it for Finn," Puck said, grinning.

Rachel sighed, with a tone of exasperation. "Fine, I'll get you some. Maximum sacrilege, I assume?"

Puck smirked. "No point otherwise."

"I'll be right back." With that, Rachel turned and left.

"That wasn't very nice," Finn commented. "At least your attitude." He opened the bag up and dumped out the fries; he hated when they cooled off and got soggy so they'd better eat them right away.

Puck shrugged, grabbing a few fries. "I'm not the one she wants to be nice to her," he said. "And if I was too nice she'd start thinking there was something wrong with _my_ head. Berry's supposed to be marrying my best friend, a certain amount of putting up with crap from me is in the job description."

_I guess,_ Finn thought, then reactivated the game.

* * *

Rachel pulled back into the drive-through that she'd left barely fifteen minutes before. Truthfully, she wasn't annoyed with Noah, either his presence or his demand for food; he was good for Finn, and having him around might ease some of the discomfort she and Finn had had the previous day. While some of that was probably due to what she'd unloaded on him, he hadn't been uncomfortable with the story, quite a contrast to what he'd been like at the time. No, Finn was uncomfortable with her. She told herself yet again that it was entirely reasonable to be uncomfortable when you find that you're in a serious relationship with someone you don't know. But her heart ached that when she looked into Finn's eyes she didn't see love there, didn't see him smile at her the way he used to, that special way that was just for her, hear that warmth in his voice; she couldn't touch him, feel his strong hand on her waist, stroke his hair, kiss him. And, though she hardly dared think it, worst of all was that she didn't know when (_if ever, please not __**never**_) she was going to get any of that back.

She pulled up to the order panel and asked for Noah's usual bacon-double-cheeseburger combo. She still had the salad she'd bought for herself; if they were making a party of it she would too. And she was sure Noah was getting at least some entertainment from thinking about her ordering that burger for him, in breach both of her veganism and of two Jewish food laws. But his mother was far more strict about the religious strictures so he ate freely when he could.

She picked up and paid for the order, then sped back to the hospital. Noah really did deserve this, he was such a help to her very damaged peace of mind about Finn, though she had to resist a little or he'd take advantage. She sighed. Hopefully Finn wouldn't have waited to eat, at least on the fries; she knew he hated how they got soggy when they cooled off.

Sure enough, when she returned to Finn's room they were focused on the game, a rapidly dwindling pile of fries between them.

"Thanks Berry," Puck said, giving her a brief glance as she put his food on the table next to him. She perched herself on the end of Finn's hospital bed and took out her salad. This got her another glance and a raised eyebrow. "You staying?" Puck asked as Finn paused the game and took out his burger.

"I'm not your caterer, Noah," she replied. "And it's not the first time I've watched the two of you play this, you just weren't in person before. Feel free to not mind your language, I don't want to cramp your style."

"Oh you won't cramp my style." Puck brought his burger out too, and took a few appreciative bites.

"Good. Because I'd hate for you to have an excuse when Finn outplays you."

Finn cast a small smile back in her direction, then concentrated on his food. They all talked a little as they ate, but Finn and Puck both finished their burgers quickly and returned to the game. Rachel sat back and slowly ate her salad as she watched them. It seemed to be going well, and her being there didn't seem to distract or unnerve Finn.

Once she finished eating, Rachel watched the game for a little while longer, happy to see that Finn was holding his own. But her eyes were lured down to watching him, the set of his shoulders, the tilt of his head, his hair curling behind his ears, his fingers deft on the controller... she bit back a whimper, but just enough slipped out to attract a sidelong glance from Puck.

Oh, how she missed the feel of Finn's hands on her. And she wanted to touch him so badly.

Maybe she could; just sidle up behind him and look up at the game they were playing, put her arms around his shoulders, smell that wonderful _Finn_ scent and kiss the top of his head and...

And if he pulled away it would kill her, she knew. And he would, especially since he was so into the game. Even before the accident he hadn't liked being distracted while he was playing.

Puck glanced at her again, his face sympathetic, and she did her best to compose herself. "I should be going," she said, going up to them and allowing herself the luxury of lightly putting her hand on Finn's shoulder as he paused the game again.

"Sorry I've been busy this time," Finn said.

"Don't be, it's fine, it's just nice to be around. And I'm glad you're able to be busy, stuck in here, it's good that Noah could come to play. You get out tomorrow, right?"

"If nothing goes wrong. Well, if nothing happens."

_Because not everything that could happen would be something wrong._ She nodded, glad that he hadn't moved out from under her hand, enjoying the slight feel she had of him. "Then I should see you at home, sometime soon I hope."

"Yeah, okay."

How she wanted to kiss him, just bend down for a moment... but she'd better not, his cheek wasn't raised to her for it or anything like that. And he'd be embarrassed, in front of Noah, even though she knew Noah wouldn't have any problem with it. "Goodbye then." She briefly met Noah's eyes as she turned to go; he had been looking intently at her. She gave him a very tiny shrug, one Finn wouldn't notice, and left.

* * *

"You should have kissed her, dude," Puck said, but Finn shrugged it off. Yeah she was presumably available to him, but whatever Puck might think about 'easy tail' he wasn't about to do that to her. Not his style anyway, and he needed to get a better handle on who he was and what he wanted before doing anything like that with anyone.


	7. static on your frequency

A last set of tests the next morning showed no change in Finn, so he was cleared to go home. His mother brought a duffel bag of his for his things, and he carefully packed his clothes around his xBox. It was an old bag, one he remembered, and he was glad she'd brought something he knew. It was certainly a lot more beat-up now, though.

He looked around idly as she drove, enjoying finally being out of the hospital and able to see more. Lima still seemed mostly the same, nothing special. Maybe a few new developments built, but not exceptional, just Lima being Lima the way it had always been. There were a lot of cars on the road, especially for late morning; he asked his mom about that and was told it was just a normal Saturday morning. _Saturday. Right. I don't think I knew that._

"Here we are," his mom said eventually, breaking into his reverie and bringing the car to a stop in front of a house, 415 Whitman. Finn wished he'd paid more attention to the street, before; he'd have to go out and look around soon, get used to the new neighborhood and find out where he was. For now... he looked over at the house. _So this is home, huh? Looks good, I guess. And well taken care of._

Finn followed his mother into the house and stopped to take off his shoes as she did.

"Hey Finn, welcome home," Burt said. He stood in the entrance to the living room, smiling at Finn, Kurt next to him. He couldn't see the room that well behind them, but saw a big-screen TV on the wall.

"Ah, hi," Finn replied, giving them a quick smile in return. "Thanks."

"Why don't we go up to your room," Carole said. "We'll sit down with the others later."

"Okay, thanks Mom." Finn followed her up the stairs, carrying the duffel bag with the things he'd had in hospital. She opened the door of the leftmost room and smiled at him, gesturing for him to go in.

"You can come down when you're ready," she said, and left him alone.

Finn stepped into the room, putting his bag down, and looked around. Not bad. _Definitely bigger, space for a full bed and a desk and..._ he looked over to his drum kit and grinned. That was his all right. He wasn't used to having it in his room, it had been in the garage before, but he'd always wanted it closer to hand anyway. He walked over to it and tapped the toms, the snare, the cymbals and hi-hat. He'd kept it in good condition. If he had some unconscious gaming skills maybe he had some unconscious drumming skills too, he'd have to try playing soon.

There were a few empty spaces: a place next to the closet where the bag probably went, and a spot right by the computer that after a moment he realized was where his xBox had been, along with the empty spots in the stack of games next to it. _Might as well put those back_, he thought, and opened his bag to get the xBox. He'd hook it up later, but for now he could at least arrange it, make the place feel more like his. He brought the games out too and added them to the stack, then reorganized them a bit just to do it.

There were also some spaces on the wall with a few holes, and an extra space behind the alarm clock on the table next to his bed, and he frowned. _Looks like some pictures are gone. I wonder why._

He opened the closet – _seems normal. _Same for the dresser drawers: regular tees, jeans, polo shirts and plaids, and some sweaters. Nothing that didn't seem like him, and some clothes he even recognized. The place did feel like home, like him, even though it didn't really look or feel like his old cramped bedroom with the aged cowboy wallpaper. Nothing like that here though, the walls were painted and plain except for where he had a few pictures up, drumming and football stuff. A Buckeyes poster, not the old one he'd had before but a newer one, much the same though and in more-or-less the same spot. He lay back on the bed and looked over at it, enjoying that consistency, that familiarity. The bed wasn't familiar at all, though he couldn't mind, since it certainly had the space he'd needed in his old long-outgrown one. He stretched his legs and arms out, enjoying the extra room, glad not to have to break out of the old bed like he'd had in his nightmare.

This would do, he supposed. It would take a while before it felt like home, and he might move things around a bit just because, but this did feel like a room that he'd set up himself, his place. Except that that felt spooky, having it feel like him without him remembering it, that alien walled inside his head making itself felt again.

He lay there for a while, maybe ten minutes, and then headed downstairs to see the others, quietly exploring the upper hall as he went. He found the bathroom, which looked pretty much like any other bathroom. _Tub's still too short._ He descended the stairs slowly, a bit intimidated by knowing that the others were sitting in the living room waiting for him.

"Hi," he said uncomfortably, stepping to the room's entrance. And yes, there they were all sitting waiting for him, his mom on the couch, with Burt and Kurt in chairs on either side. His mom beckoned him over to sit by her, which put him next to Kurt as well.

"So, Finn," Burt said, breaking the silence. "Are you thoroughly uncomfortable yet?"

Finn blinked at the directness and accuracy of Burt's question, and smiled sheepishly. "Pretty much, yes."

"I figured." Burt made eye contact with Carole. "Come on, Carole," he said. "Let's not gang up on the boy. Kurt, how about you stay here and get reacquainted, we'll go get lunch ready. Okay?"

"All right," Carole said, getting up. She looked back down at Finn. "Just let me know if you need anything."

"We'll be in the kitchen, Carole. And they're not kids, they'll be fine." Burt escorted a reluctant Carole away, leaving Finn and Kurt alone.

Kurt smiled at their departing parents. "She doesn't mean to baby you, she's just been very worried," he explained to Finn. "We all have been."

"It's memory loss, it's not crippling," Finn said. "Or so they keep telling me."

"After four days of coma," Kurt stressed. "We're all very happy you woke up."

"Oh. Yeah, I guess that was bad," Finn admitted. He snorted. "At least I have an excuse for not remembering _that_."

"That's the spirit." But they fell back into silence and looked at each other, not knowing what to say. Kurt cleared his throat. "You know, Finn, there really isn't any point in us pretending this isn't awkward, that just makes it more awkward," he said. "I know that you don't remember me, you know that I'm now your stepbrother, let's just..." he waved his hands. "Go from there and muddle through."

Finn smiled tightly. "Okay, let's give it a shot," he said. "So... Kurt. I do remember you a bit from school, though you've, uh, grown up I guess."

"It happens to us all."

"You were in my freshman bio class, right? With Ellis, second period?"

"That's right," Kurt answered, surprised. "It's been a while, I hardly remembered."

"Not as long for me," Finn shrugged. "You were behind me for the first week, weren't you? Until Ellis found out I blocked your view."

"Um, yes. I didn't complain to him, though."

"You should have, I was happy to move back. I hate sitting at the front, I stick out too much and I feel even bigger."

Kurt smiled. "Mr. Ellis's fetish for alphabetical order seating plans may make it easier for him to learn students' names, but it's educationally counterproductive."

"Uh, yeah." _Sounds about right._ "I just hate feeling like I'm in the way, that's probably why I remember you from then."

"I think that's a thing of the past," Kurt stated. "You being in the way, I mean. The class is also over and done with, as is high school, at least for us."

"Yeah, that's really weird. Not that I liked it that much, but finding out that I'm done is a shock, when I don't remember finishing. And it did make life simpler, everyone just tells you what to do. Classes, sports, that sort of thing, I don't know what I'm doing now." Finn saw Kurt cock an eyebrow at him. "What?"

"Let's just say that you turned out to be less interested in doing what people told you to do than what you just said would indicate," Kurt sort-of explained. "You're much more individual than you gave yourself credit for."

_Oh._ "That's... good?"

Kurt chuckled. "_I_ think so. And it didn't bring on anything you couldn't handle." He paused. "So, lunch? Your mom has been worried that you've been starving in hospital."

"Not exactly starving. But I could certainly eat now."

"Then let me show you to the kitchen." Kurt got up with some ceremony, and gestured to Finn to go with him.

Finn rose. "It's on the right. I saw it when I came in."

Kurt snorted. "Yes, fine, just... let's go have lunch."

Lunch proved to be simple, sandwiches and salad (mostly sandwiches as far as Finn was concerned; Burt had more salad, under Kurt's watchful eye). Finn sat in the chair that was apparently his usual spot, left for him by the others. It felt okay, facing Burt, his mom on his right and Kurt on his left. The side was long so he had plenty of space.

Finn spoke little, preferring to eat quietly and try to get used to the sound of the others talking. But he brightened when Burt mentioned that he might be able to get tickets for a Reds game soon and asked if Finn would like to go. "Brewers next Friday, maybe."

"That'd be great, thanks," Finn answered. "I've never been to a game before." He caught a quickly cut-off chortle from Kurt on his left. "Okay, that I remember," he finished, rolling his eyes a little. _Glad someone finds this funny._

"Sorry," Kurt said. "But look on the bright side, you get to have that special first experience all over again."

_I guess_, Finn thought. He wasn't sure what to say, so he just nodded and smiled his thanks to Burt.

Lunch over, he helped clear a little; the fridge organization was basically the same, which made sense because that was how his mom liked it. There was much more of a variety in it, though, including three kinds of milk: their usual 2%, some 1% (which seemed silly, though it could be for Burt) and even some soy (which he didn't understand at all).

"I was going to head out a little this afternoon," Kurt said behind him, talking to their parents. "There's some shopping I need to do and Blaine has some as well." He looked tentatively at Carole.

"Dinner's at six," Carole stated. "Family." She looked meaningfully at Kurt. "Just family."

"But -" Kurt frowned. "All right, for tonight," he nodded.

* * *

That afternoon Finn went through more of his things, finding nothing particularly unexpected. His desk had his papers from the last year of school, some with grades that were pleasant surprises, though a little less pleasant when he started worrying that he couldn't really do that well himself, not now. Some of those papers – how had he understood English class that well? Or History? One History paper seemed to have actual original ideas, things that made sense, except that he'd come up with them somehow. But at least school was done, though he didn't know anything about what he was going to do next.

The drums in the corner started calling his name, and after a while he went over to them, wanting to play. He checked them over carefully first, everything apparently in working order, and then pulled out a pair of sticks from his same usual spot by the bass drum and warmed up. Light stuff first, but he soon got more into it, feeling himself relax into the movement, enjoying the familiar reaction of the drums. Finally he noticed the iPod speakers set up directly behind the kit, plugged his iPod in, and played along to the first couple of songs on his drum playlist. All that made him feel more... himself, more real. Of course those ones he'd been playing for years even as he remembered it, but it was a start.

Finn looked around the room again, still bothered by the empty spaces on the wall. Maybe he should ask, at least so it would stop bugging him. He found his mother in the kitchen, making his favorite spaghetti sauce, the kind with her special meatballs.

"Hey, that smells great, Mom," he said appreciatively. "I still like this, right?"

His mom turned to smile at him. "You always like this." She sighed a little. "You really need to stop worrying so much that you've changed, Finn," she said. "Your tastes may have expanded a little by being exposed to other things, but they're still basically the same."

"Yeah, well – all my stuff looks pretty normal, like mine," he replied. "So I guess so. But..." he trailed off.

"But what?" she looked at him with concern.

"What's with the spaces on the wall? It looks like I had something there. And there's a spot for a picture by the bed as well."

"Oh."

Finn frowned, trying to voice his worry. "Did you take some stuff away?" _Does it just seem like my stuff is normal because it's been edited to look that way?_

"A little," his mom admitted. "Nothing from your closet or your drawers, I didn't get into your clothes at all," she said hurriedly, seeing his frown and trying to allay his fears. "But there were some things, pictures, a few books, that were things you've only been doing more recently and I thought they'd just make you uncomfortable. Including Glee, and people from Glee; there's a big picture from Nationals of the group winning the championship, everyone has it. I'm not trying to hide things like that, and you can have them back if you want them, I just thought it would be more of a shock if you saw them there and make you feel less at home."

Finn still frowned, but he could understand, he thought. His mom turned back to her cooking for a quick stir to stop the meatballs from sticking, and then back to him. "So do you?" she asked.

"Do I what?"

"Do you want them back."

_Oh. Hmm._ "Not yet, I guess," he said uncertainly. He really didn't know what he wanted, but he supposed that having people he didn't know stare at him in his bed would probably make him uncomfortable. Especially if he thought about it like that. And the one from the bedside, he didn't even want to think what that had been of or whether he'd want to see it first and last thing, every morning and night.

Trying to distract himself from these thoughts, he looked around the kitchen, and he spotted a plastic container of homemade cookies on the sideboard, iced sugar cookies in circles and stars. "Hey, where did these cookies come from? I love these," Finn said, going over to them, suddenly much happier. He smiled as he took a big round one with orange icing.

His mother turned to look at him, stunned. "You do?"

"Yeah, they're great." He took a bite. "Mmmm. I've missed these." His mother stared, ignoring the pot on the stove behind her as she watched her son eat.

Finally Carole found her voice. "Kurt?" she called out to her stepson in the living room. "Could you please help me in the kitchen for a moment?"

"Sure," Kurt called back. He came in through the doorway and saw Finn finishing the last of his cookie. "Ah, stuffing your face as usual, some things never change." But Kurt's smile at him took some of the sting out of his words. "Luckily with you 'spoiling your appetite for dinner' never seems to apply."

"Hey, these are special," Finn protested, helping himself to another cookie, one of the yellow star-shaped ones this time. He saw Kurt look at his mom, puzzled; she raised her eyebrows and shook her head, showing disbelief.

"Yes, they are special," Kurt said haltingly. "But how do you know that?" He sounded excited.

"They're really good," Finn replied, trying not to lose any of the crumbs as he ate. "I didn't know if I was ever getting these again. Where'd you find them, anyway?" He saw them both staring at him, and became uncomfortable. "Have we had these for years? What is it?"

"Finn... where do you remember them from?" his mom asked.

"Bake sale at school," Finn answered, shrugging. "Back in May. Uh, May freshman year I guess. Fundraising for some weird club, I had some at lunch then went back for the rest, ate them over the next few days." He bit off another point, pausing as he chewed and swallowed. "They've got to be the same ones, the icing's all flavored just like them and I remember the yellow stars, they're the best. Did I track them down or something? I know I liked them but I wouldn't've thought I'd bother that much." He looked over at Kurt, who was still staring at him. "Or are they yours?"

"No, they're -" Kurt exchanged another look with Carole, whose face had fallen. "I'll check," he told her, pulling out his phone and making a call. "Hey, I have a strange question," he said into the phone. "Your sugar cookies – did you make them for a bake sale at school back in freshman year?" Pause. "Think back, it's important." Pause. "Oh. Damn. Thanks." Pause. "Apparently he had some then. Sorry about this." Pause. "Yes he's here at home, settling in. Family only. I'll tell you more tonight." Kurt hung up and repocketed his phone. "Renaissance Club bake sale, May of freshman year," he told Carole.

"Damn," she responded, frowning. "Oh well."

"What is going on about these cookies?" Finn asked, frustrated. "Am I not supposed to like them? _Mom_?"

"We didn't think you'd recognize them or remember that you liked them," his mom explained. "We know they're your favorite, and Rachel certainly does, that's why she made them for you. But we didn't know you'd had them before you met her."

_Oh. Rachel. Well they are really good cookies._ "Yeah. Sorry."

"It's not your fault, honey," his mom said. "We just got overexcited when we thought you remembered something."

Finn finished the last bite of his second cookie. "Well, um... thank her for me, please?"

"You could -" Kurt started, but was interrupted by Carole.

"Sure, honey, we'll tell her."

* * *

The four of them reassembled in the kitchen for dinner, which started uneventfully, though the meatballs were even better than Finn remembered. Tastier somehow. He mentioned this to his mom, who smiled.

"I've worked on them a bit," she said. "Better ingredients, more herbs, that sort of thing. Glad you're happy with it."

"And the sauce is from our own tomatoes," Kurt put in.

"We have to grow our own food?" Finn was puzzled, _did all the money go to the house or something?_

"Not have to, honey," his mom replied. "It can actually be more expensive to grow your own, especially putting time into them, but we like them better. This sauce is from last year, the new ones should be ready in a few more weeks if we get enough sun."

"Carole got the idea from Rachel, actually, since you liked hers so much," Kurt said. "And anything we can do to get my dad to want to eat more vegetables is worth it. Even if it is more expensive than buying the industrial ones from the supermarket."

"So it's like a weird rich-person thing." _Quinn's family hadn't done that, though, and they're really the only sorta-rich family I know. Knew. Whatever._

Burt laughed at this. "Oh we're not rich, son. Not by any stretch of the imagination, even if I am in Congress now. But we're comfortable, we can afford the things we need and a bit extra, and we don't have to worry about the bill payments for next month."

"Like we used to." Finn glanced over at his mom. Suddenly he wasn't so appreciative of the bigger bedroom, or the big-screen TV on the wall of the living room, it all seemed like a slam against his old life that he knew. They'd made do okay, before. But he regretted his comment a moment later when he saw the hurt look on his mom's face. "Sorry," he mumbled.

"Now seriously, do I look like a guy who came along and swept your mom off her feet with all his money, flashy clothes, and suave charm?" Burt chuckled, but looked across at Finn seriously. "The shop is well established and solid, even in this economy, your mom's career is still going well with good seniority, and it helps to share expenses. We're equal here. Plus we did want to give you boys some space and a few things, especially since you're growing up and you may not be at home much longer to benefit."

"We briefly had to share a room at first, before we bought the bigger house," Kurt put in. "Not a good idea, we were both too used to our own ways. And the tomatoes aren't weird, they're 'awesome', and that's your word for them. We just don't care that much what others think, if we like something ourselves, and in a few weeks when they start being ready you can try them for yourself and see how 'awesome' they are."

"It's not so strange anyway, the Obamas have a vegetable garden at the White House," Carole said.

"Yeah, that's right," Burt said, grinning at her. "Hey, maybe if you get a chance to meet Michelle you can talk about that."

Carole laughed. "I suppose we could," she said. "I'm still not used to the idea that my husband is in the U.S. Congress."

_I'm still not used to the idea that you have a husband,_ Finn thought. _And yeah he's a nice guy and pretty normal but this whole situation just isn't._

Burt nodded at Finn. "Don't let your food go cold, son. If you start not eating we'll have to call the hospital because then something really would be wrong with you."

Finn mustered a smile at that, and returned his attention to his food. He had to admit to himself that the sauce did taste great.

* * *

That night Finn tried to relax in his bedroom to go to sleep. Certainly the larger bed was good. The Buckeyes poster felt the most like home, and he did his best to focus on it, that and his drums.

He looked over at his clock to check the time, trying not to think about the picture that his other self had put there. Something to look at first thing in the morning and last thing at night... pretty obvious what that would be, from what he'd been told. But he hadn't made that decision, any of the decisions about her, including having her picture there. Even though she did apparently make his favorite cookies.

_I'm not that shallow, am I, to have been with her for the sake of her cookies? I hope not._ Finn snorted and turned over, trying to get comfortable. _Welcome to the first night of the rest of your life, Finn Hudson._

* * *

_A/N: Henrietta Line enthusiastically supports growing one's own tomatoes._


	8. I wish that I could live it all again

_Disclaimer: iPad is a trademark of Apple Inc. Its use here is not a product testimonial or advertisement._

* * *

Sunday morning Finn slept in, which was comfortable. But once he woke up, he soon got up; he wasn't interested in lying around in his room, not now, not when it at turns felt either familiar or unnatural.

His mom put together a nice big brunch, with Kurt's help, and he heard them working together on it in the kitchen, talking in low voices. He supposed it was great that his mom got on so well with her stepson, and it was certainly good that she had some help cooking now that there were four of them (Finn's skills being pretty basic and largely geared towards 'eat it when it's ready' rather than 'prepare for a specific time'). But he also felt a bit – replaced. As if he hadn't been here at all during the time he didn't remember, and he had come back to find someone else in his place as his mom's son. Still, the food was really good. And Finn had been working at Burt's shop, he'd been told, so maybe this was just part of the 'blending' process, bonding with the stepparent.

Bored with staying in, and still uncomfortable with the unfamiliar house, Finn decided to go out for a drive after brunch. He had his license, after all, and justified a trip out to his mom as being an important test of his skills. She insisted he take her around the block first, but he clearly had no difficulty so she wished him well and let him go off in her car. Anyway, it was Sunday so he didn't have to worry about any mail carriers coming from out of the blue, and traffic was light.

He didn't have anywhere specific he wanted to go, he'd just wanted to get out by himself and be independent, so after exploring the new neighborhood a little he drove aimlessly. He soon found himself over in a fancier part of town, on a street called Birch Hill Road. He didn't recognize the area, sure he knew about it but he didn't know the street or these big houses. But they reminded him of another big house that he had visited, the home of the one person he had most expected to see but hadn't, so he decided to drive there. Hopefully she hadn't moved.

She answered the door and stood there for a moment in surprise. "Oh. Finn. Hello," she said.

"Hello Quinn." Yes, she was older too, and her hair was shorter, only just above her shoulders. But she had the same pretty face and lovely green eyes, widening as she looked at him.

"You look very well, I'm glad," she said, giving him a smile. "Why don't you come in?" She showed him into the living room and brought him some soda, then sat down with him. "I was very sorry to hear about the accident and your memory loss," she continued. "How are you doing?"

"Okay, I guess. Confused." He paused, sipping at his drink. "I did kind of wonder why you didn't come to see me, though. I know we broke up, twice I guess from what Puck said, but he said you were in Glee too and most of the rest of them came around. You and Puck are almost the only ones I remember well, I'd really like to talk to you if that's okay."

Quinn lowered her eyes. "I'm sorry that I didn't come," she said. "I wasn't sure it was appropriate, really, under the circumstances. So much has happened, things are so different between us than what you remember."

"Well yeah, from what I remember we should still be going out," Finn said. "But I know some of it."

"Do you?" She looked at him searchingly.

"Puck told me about your kid, about Beth."

"Did he tell you it happened when I cheated on you with him?" she asked tentatively.

Finn stared at Quinn, his mouth open. "No." _No he definitely did __**not**__. What the hell?_

"Well I did," she declared. "And I'm sorry. You were pissed at both of us for a long time. But you and I tried going out again, the next year, when you'd split from Rachel for a while, and that didn't work out either." She shrugged. "So that's why I didn't go to see you in hospital. I was worried about you, but so much has happened that it didn't seem right to pretend that it hadn't, with you not remembering it." She frowned a little, a nice pretty frown. "And while you forgave me, your mom never did."

"That's okay," Finn said. _All done with, I guess._ "It's still good to see a familiar face."

"A lot has changed, huh?" Quinn said sympathetically.

"Everything, it seems like. I have a whole new family, a different house, I'm engaged to a whole new girl... and it's so hard to know where I am with anything. Things that should be familiar are strange and some things that apparently should be strange are familiar." He sighed. "And it seems like I'm watched for, like, everything."

"That doesn't seem to have stopped you from going out."

"Well I can drive now. I know, weird to hear me say that when you've seen me do it for years, right? I keep saying stuff like that so get used to it."

"It's okay, you can relax, honestly," Quinn reassured him.

"That'd be nice." Finn exhaled. "And I can go out, it's not like I'm under anyone's control or anything like that. But it's like everything I do is looked at to see if I'm having any trouble, or if I'm not and it might mean something. And they get all weird about the slightest little thing. Yesterday Mom and Kurt started freaking out because I liked some cookies."

"Rachel's sugar cookies?"

"Yes. How did you know?"

Quinn smiled. "You love Rachel's sugar cookies. You also love her banana bread, and just about anything else that Rachel bakes for you, but you especially love her sugar cookies. And she knows it so of course she makes them for you."

"Well apparently I've loved Rachel's sugar cookies for longer than I've known Rachel, she made them for a bake sale once and I bought out the stock." He frowned. "But they didn't know so they went all 'oh my god, he's remembering' for a while, which was freaky. I guess I never told anyone about them before."

"Well you wouldn't have told me. I used to hate it that Rachel baked for you," Quinn admitted. "After you first became good friends with her, when you started studying and singing with her, and then the next year when we were going out again, I couldn't stand that she did that. I didn't like that she had that with you." She exhaled. "Actually I didn't like her at all, even before you met her, and I don't really know why, I just never did. She was too different and far too easy to put down, and she never stayed down so I had to keep doing it. I got over it eventually."

"She never did anything to you?"

"You mean before she stole my boyfriend's heart?" Quinn looked at him with a sad smile. "No."

"I'm sorry about that," Finn said quietly.

"Really? You don't even remember that," Quinn replied. "It's not like I gave her any respect so I suppose it's only fair that I didn't get it either. But you and I were the school's new golden couple."

Finn smiled. "I remember _that_."

"She just completely defied everything, even just by talking to you. It hurt, it was just so impossible. I was the Cheerios captain, as a sophomore no less, the golden girl every guy supposedly wanted, and I couldn't stop my own boyfriend from spending time with the school pariah." Quinn looked morose, remembering. "She was so annoying, everyone knew that she'd talk your ear off if you'd let her, and yet _you_ would rather hang out with her than with me. And that's even before she started baking for you so I know it wasn't to get free cookies."

"Maybe you didn't know."

"Come on, Finn. You've never been able to hide your appreciation for food."

"Did -" Finn frowned. "Did I cheat on you with her?"

"Not like I did on you with Puck," Quinn admitted. "If you did anything I never found out, and if anyone knew they would have told me, either to tell on her or put me down. But it did feel like there was something going on, even if you didn't do anything about it." She sighed. "She was the only girl that would actually dare go after the boyfriend of the Cheerios captain. She's like that, if she wants something she goes after it. It's impressive but I definitely hated it at the time."

"Hmm."

"And then I found out I was pregnant, and you stuck by me until you found out it wasn't yours. She even helped us out, at least until _she_ found out it wasn't yours. Then she did what I hadn't been able to bring myself to do, she told you." Quinn kept her eyes on Finn, looking carefully at his reaction.

Finn frowned again. "How did you know it wasn't mine?" He paused, thinking. "For that matter, when did we do it? We made out a lot but you wouldn't even let me touch you anywhere near down there."

"We didn't, we never have," Quinn admitted. "That's how I knew it wasn't yours."

"What?" Finn gaped at her. "Look I know I'm dumb about some things, but I'm not that dumb, why would I think it was mine if we hadn't done it?"

Quinn sighed. "No, you're not dumb, Finn. You are a bit suggestible, though. I told you it must have happened when we made out in the hot tub and you couldn't hold back, and you trusted me that it could happen like that."

Finn stared. "That was two weeks ago. From what I remember. Just before the last week I remember before waking up in hospital. Labor Day weekend."

"That's right. And a few days later Puck took me home and brought a bunch of wine coolers, one thing led to another, and..." she shrugged. "Even now I don't know why I even let him drive me home, much less invited him up to my room. I suppose it was good to be pursued and appreciated like that, so intensely, even if in retrospect it was really stupid and Puck's normally pretty disgusting."

Finn stared off into space, getting angry. "Well I don't know why the dude that's been my best friend since before middle school would sleep with my girlfriend. At least Rachel didn't owe you anything when she started talking to me."

"That's true," Quinn said quietly, trying to calm Finn down. "But this is all ancient history, Finn, even if you don't remember it. Please don't hate Puck. You worked it all out and you really need friends right now. He became a better friend, too."

"Really?" Finn was still agitated. "I guess it's not hard to be better than a friend who'd do _that_."

"Let me show you something." Quinn went away and came back with her iPad, then sat down next to Finn with it in her lap.

"What's that?"

"I just want to show you some pictures."

"No, I mean, _that_." Finn touched the corner of the iPad.

"Oh." Quinn laughed. "It's an iPad, a tablet with a touch screen. We use them for all sorts of things, games, music, videos, everything. I have a lot of my pictures on here." She tapped the screen, bringing up her photo organizer app, and Finn stared, fascinated by how everything looked. "There are a lot of these, the whole club exchanged them." She tapped on an icon that said 'Graduation', then selected a picture of two young men in red robes, arms around each other's shoulders, grinning. "Here's you and Puck at graduation," she said, passing the tablet over to Finn. He looked down at it, seeing himself and Puck, so obviously happy.

"Hmph." Finn found it hard to understand, that that guy next to him in the photo would do what he'd been told about, and that he would have so obviously been able to get over it. But there they were, finishing school together as the same bros they'd always been. He took a deep breath. _Well it's all long over, no point worrying about it now especially when there's so much else to worry about. And I don't know what I'd do without him, he's the only one who came to visit me that I felt like myself around, even with all the new stuff we talked about. _"But I did get my own back at the time, right?" he asked. Finn didn't want to feel like he'd been too much of a sucker, first to believe the story Quinn admitted to telling him and then to forgive the betrayal too easily.

"You strode into the choir room and had him on the ground in seconds. It took three people, Mr. Schue, Matt and Mike, to pull you off him." She sighed. "And you didn't speak to me again until just before I had the baby."

"But we went out again junior year, you said."

"Yes, you'd broken up with Rachel for a while and we got back together." She took the tablet back and tapped on it a few more times. "Here's a picture from junior prom." Finn leaned over and looked at it; they were standing right in front of the stairs in the hall, very close to where they were right now. They were both smiling, not grinning particularly but serious smiles. The golden couple, like he remembered. "Wow," he said, smiling at the picture, then over at her. "You're so beautiful. I mean not that you're not now, you always are, just... wow."

Quinn smiled. "Thank you. Not one of our better nights, as it turned out, but it's a great picture."

"I'd rather not hear more about it," Finn said cautiously. "I mean, unless something happened that's really important, something I need to know or you're worried someone else might tell me."

"Oh?"

"Just – there's a lot of stuff that's happened. A lot of big stuff. And a lot of not-so-big stuff. But it's all past, right, and my shrink says it's better if I can get memories to come back on their own, that if I find out too many details by being told them it can be a lot harder to really remember, or to know what I remember for real and what I've just been told. Some 'con' word, con-something-shun."

"Confabulation?"

"Yeah, that's it. Where you don't really remember but you think you do, your brain fills in the details and you can't tell the difference between that and something that really happened. He says it's really important that I don't do that, the fake memories would make it a lot harder, maybe even impossible, to get the real ones back. I could end up with a mix of them and never be able to sort them out."

Quinn swallowed. "Well, we don't want that. I'm sorry, I've probably already told you too much."

"Nah, that's okay. Most of it was bad and if that stuff doesn't fully come back, how I felt then and everything, that's probably not a big deal. I don't think I need to remember wanting to kill my best friend. Especially since you're right, I need friends right now and Puck's been great." He smiled tentatively at her. "So can we talk about something else? Not the past, just other stuff?"

"Sure," Quinn said, smiling. "I'd like that." She gave a small frown, though. "But just so you get the big facts straight -" she saw Finn frown. "I won't tell you the details so you can't confabulate them. But you should know, a week after that picture was taken, we broke up, and a little over a week after that you were back with Rachel. You've been together ever since."

Finn thought for a moment. "Puck said I dumped you for someone else. That must have been for her."

Quinn's face fell. "Yes. I really shouldn't tell you anything else, though, or you'll start making things up in your head and you'll never remember properly, like your psychiatrist said."

"Yeah. So let's talk about..." Finn snorted. "I don't really remember talking that much, we used to just hang out." _And make out, but that's over._

"That's true." Quinn smiled. "I need to get some groceries today, so why don't you come along?"

Finn nodded, returning her smile. "Okay."

At the supermarket Finn trailed after Quinn, pushing the cart. _This is good, just relaxing, not having to think_, he thought. _Didn't the shrink say something about don't worry or think too much? So yeah, this is good._ He kept his eyes on Quinn, following her around, stepping up to get something she wanted that was on the top shelf, out of her reach. _Nothing awkward and no expectations._

He was waiting for Quinn at the checkout line – she'd raced back to get something – when a familiar figure waltzed up to him.

"Well hey there, Frankenteen," Santana said, smiling. "Good to see you up and about."

"Oh, hi Santana," Finn replied. _So, I've slept with her, huh?_ He glanced up and down her briefly, wondering why he had, aside from her being hot, obviously, and found her staring back at him.

"Someone told you," she accused, pointing at him but still smiling, her other hand on her hip.

"Uh, what?"

"That look. You know about it, don't deny it. And you're wondering something about it, how it was maybe." She smirked. "Well don't get your hopes up of getting another ride to refresh your memory, I'm strictly no stick now. Should have been before."

Finn's jaw dropped. Santana had been notorious among the guys, a lot of whom had been with her or said they had. "Really?"

"Yep. Turns out the 'right guy' I was looking for is Brittany." She tossed her head.

"Hello Santana," Quinn said, returning with the paper towels she'd gone to find.

"Quinn!" Santana smiled at her old friend. "This is a surprise."

"We're just hanging out. He doesn't remember most of the others," Quinn said defensively.

"Hey, not my business," Santana replied. She looked back at Finn. "But that thing you were wondering about?" She raised an eyebrow. "It sucked. Not worth remembering, trust me." She sashayed away, calling back over her shoulder. "Take care and see you 'round, you two."

* * *

Later that afternoon Finn returned to the house (_hard to think of it as home_) and sat down in the living room, turning on the TV to watch some baseball. About five minutes later he heard steps behind him, and he looked over to see his stepbrother.

"Hey," Finn grunted.

"So you're back," Kurt commented.

"Yep." _Thank you, Captain Obvious._

"Where did you go?"

"Out." Finn frowned. "I can go out for a drive, the doctors don't expect me to have blackouts or anything."

"How's driving?" Kurt came and sat down in the chair next to the couch where Finn lounged.

"Fine." Finn shrugged.

"Guess you remember how to do that."

Finn reached for the remote, and turned up the volume on the game. "I'd already learned to drive, mostly, I was just a little too young to get my license." _Though I'm better at it than I was then._

Kurt shrugged back. "Fine," he said, rolling his eyes. "I fail to see what's so interesting about the commentary that you have to blare it out, though." He exhaled, trying to smile at Finn. "At least save my ears, please."

"Fine," Finn repeated back, lowering the volume back down. He shook his head internally, telling himself he should be nicer to the boy that had somehow become his brother. _No need to be an ass, Hudson._ "Not a baseball fan?" he inquired.

"Not a sports fan in general. And those uniforms are a fashion crime. Seriously, stirrup pants?"

Finn snorted. "What, are you gay?" As soon as he heard himself say it, Finn frowned and sat up, looking over at Kurt as if finally seeing him properly.

Kurt smiled. "Yes. Completely and unreservedly. Did you figure that out, or did you remember it?"

Finn thought. "I don't know," he replied. "Did people know, back then?" He glanced over at the TV, noticing the switch to loud ads at the start of the seventh-inning stretch; he muted it.

"Back when you can remember? I wasn't out at all then. I knew, and Dad knew, though I hadn't told him so I'd never talked about it with anyone. I came out later that fall. Not many people were surprised though. And it would have come up soon if you hadn't figured it out, I wasn't trying to hide it from you now."

"Huh." _Gay stepbrother. O-kay..._ "Have you seen me naked?" This prompted a laugh from Kurt. "Hey, I don't mean to be funny."

"You should be glad I'm not offended by the suggestion. I used to be." But Kurt calmed himself. "No, I have not seen you naked, nor do I want to – you're my brother. So there's no need to either be concerned that I'd like what I would see or insulted that I wouldn't." He winced. "I have seen you almost naked, and believe me if _I_ had amnesia and forgot those incidents I would be better off. But alas this is not to be."

Finn was very confused. "What are you talking about?"

"You and my best friend, apparently naked in bed, doing – I don't want to think what."

"What the hell!" Finn was shocked. He didn't swing that way at all.

"Well she had already agreed to marry you, so I shouldn't have been so surprised at what else she agreed to do with you."

Finn took deep slow breaths, trying to stop himself from hyperventilating. _Oh._ "So your best friend -"

"Is Rachel. Yes." Kurt sighed. "I'm sorry, Finn, that was mean of me," he apologized. "I'm using the fact that I know you better than you know me as a joke, and I shouldn't. But take it from me, that was a very traumatic sight. It's certainly the last time I left my headphones on when walking around the house. We also replaced the catch on your door, though I didn't tell my dad why."

"So I got together with your best friend, huh?"

"Sort of. It all happened at about the same time; you and Rachel got together around when your mom and my dad started getting serious. Before we got the bigger house. And Rachel and I didn't get along as well back then, though we ironed things out soon after."

"So you became best friends with my girlfriend."

"Yes, mostly. More that than the reverse, I suppose. And there were problems and drama and whatever," Kurt said, waving his hand. "We're all great now, or at least we were until you hit your head."

"Sorry."

"Not your fault. And they did get the idiot who sideswiped you, not that that's much help other than for the insurance."

"Sometimes it feels like my memory fell out into the ditch and I should go look for it."

"All you'd find would be some scrap metal that fell off your truck."

"I know. It's just – really strange."

Kurt gave him a sympathetic look. "I'm sure it is. And trust me, it's really strange for us too."

"Yeah, I get that," Finn grumbled. "So we must've hung out a lot, huh?"

"In various combinations as it suited us. You still had all your sports and video games, with Puck and Mike and some of the others. You weren't that different than you think you are now. And you worked at the tire shop for my dad."

"Yeah, we've talked about the shop."

"Good." Kurt glanced over at the TV – the game was back on, but Finn had made no move to turn off the mute. "But yes, the three of us are – were -" he pursed his lips, frustrated. "We're really close." He pulled his phone from his pocket and pressed a few buttons to select a picture, then handed it across to Finn.

Finn looked at it and saw yet another graduation picture, with the same him that he'd seen in the picture Quinn had shown of him with Puck. This set of red-gowned graduates were bareheaded, all three of them close together, Finn with one arm up on Kurt's shoulder, bro-style, and the other curled tightly around the waist of the beaming brunette in front of him. He glanced at it briefly. "Graduation, huh?"

"Yes, Blaine took that one for me. He's my boyfriend, by the way, we're the same age but he's a year behind because he lost ground when he was harassed into switching schools. Have you seen any of the grad pictures before?"

"Uh, just one, of me and Puck." Finn swallowed, a little tense. No reason he shouldn't talk about this, though. "I ran into Quinn when I was out, she showed it to me."

"That's – odd." Kurt frowned.

"She was trying to help me, letting me know that Puck and I were still tight," Finn explained defensively. _That was really nice of her to do that._

"Um, why wouldn't you be...?" Kurt exhaled. "Okay, Finn, could you please help me out? It's hard to talk to you when I don't know what you do and do not know. Especially about other people, I don't want to tell someone else's story by mistake."

"Well I don't know if you know this stuff either."

"If it happened in Glee Club in the last three years, I know about it, trust me," Kurt said.

Finn frowned. "Okay, I guess," he said, thinking about what Quinn had told him, that he'd gone off on Puck in the choir room. "She told me about me, and her, and Puck, and... Beth." This was a bit of a test to see if Kurt really did know.

"Known to the rest of us as Babygate," Kurt said. "Yes, that's what I figured. I was just surprised that she told you, it seemed to be the perfect chance to get away from it since you didn't remember and Puck didn't tell you the details, particularly the timing."

"She's being nice, trying to help me," Finn protested, not liking Kurt's expression. "Look, I know she said my mom didn't like her afterwards, but she's making up for what she did, and I forgave her anyway, she showed me our picture from junior prom."_ Even if she said it wasn't a good night. _"I know a lot's happened, even if I don't remember most of it, but it did seem like we were planning to stay in touch."

"Well Yale isn't that far from New York," Kurt commented idly. He raised his eyebrow at Finn's puzzlement. "Quinn's going to Yale in the fall."

"Yes, she told me that, but – we're moving to New York? _I'm_ moving to New York?" Finn was stunned.

"Damn," Kurt frowned. "Sorry, didn't mean to spring it on you like that. Hold on." He went into the hall and called downstairs for Finn's mother. "Carole, do you have a few minutes? I've just put my foot in it with Finn."

Carole came up from the laundry room, looking puzzled. "What is it?"

"New York," Kurt explained. "The New York plans."

Carole groaned, and followed Kurt back into the living room.

"What's going on, Mom?" Finn asked. "What's all this about moving to New York?"

"Not all of us, honey," Carole said, sitting next to Finn on the couch. "The three of you, though – Kurt and Rachel were accepted to NYADA, the New York Academy of Dramatic Arts, it's very prestigious. And you were accepted into City College, not far away from there, so you found a decent apartment in the area where the three of you could live together." She bit her lip. "Hold on, I'll be right back." Carole went upstairs and came back a few minutes later with an envelope that Finn didn't recognize, though it was addressed to him and already open. "Here's your acceptance." She looked over at Kurt. "Could you excuse us, please, Kurt?" Kurt nodded and left.

Finn took the letter out of the envelope and read it. There it was in print, his acceptance to the social sciences program at City College, part of City University of New York – but out of state? And not involving football at all? "How do I even have the scores for this?" he asked his mom, disbelieving. "And what happened to football, Ohio State?"

Carole sighed. "Football didn't work out, honey," she said. "You had a good run, though. And you've worked very hard to pull your grades and test scores up."

"Huh." Finn looked at the letter again. "Why New York? I don't remember even thinking about it as a possibility. Not that I thought much about any of that future stuff," he admitted. "I just don't get it."

Carole leaned over to hug her son. "I know there's a lot to take in, a lot of changes," she said. "But being able to do something like that – it's good. And if you look at the pieces together, they should make some sense."

"Rachel," Finn mused. He looked over at his mom. "Rachel's going to New York so I was going too."

"Yes. It is a very good program, though, with an excellent focus on leadership that should suit you, so it's not like you were sacrificing anything."

"But I must have been working towards that for a while, to get my grades up and apply."

"Yes."

"So -" Finn frowned, frustrated. "Yeah I know it's been almost three years that I don't remember. But it doesn't seem long enough. Last I remember, Quinn and I were the couple everyone idolized, the rest of the football team would've thrown me into a dumpster if they caught me talking to someone like Rachel, I hadn't even really met her, and now we've been serious for long enough that I've asked her to marry me and pulled up my grades so I can follow her when she takes off for Broadway? How did this all happen so fast?"

Carole pursed her lips. "You're right, it was fast," she said. "But in some ways it was also a long time coming. Only thing I know is that you found something you decided you really wanted and you went for it. And you weren't going to let your teammates tell you what to do or who to be with." She frowned. "Broadway?" she questioned. "Did someone mention that?"

"I don't know," Finn replied, briefly wondering about it. "Just – singing, and that arts school, and New York."

"Hmm."

"But now what? I don't remember anything about this college, and the shrink says I should take things slow. I can't move to New York with two people I barely know, or start college when I don't even remember the last three years of high school. So what am I supposed to do now?"

Carole sighed, and her arm tightened around her son. "I don't know, honey. But I'll always be here for you, and we can figure this out. The rest of the family, too. We're here."


	9. broken contacts in emotional chemistry

Late Monday morning Rachel stood in her bedroom, looking carefully at herself in the mirror. She smiled excitedly. Finally, finally she was going to see Finn at home, they'd asked her over for lunch. She turned, watching the skirt of her dress move, the white blue-striped sundress that Finn had always appreciated. ("Hey, we match," he'd said with a grin when he'd first seen her in it, "and your skin's really glowing, I love it.") Hair soft, over one shoulder. A little light makeup, very natural, just the way he liked her best. She looked at the pictures of Finn that she had by her mirror and smiled at the sight of him. She couldn't wait to look into those warm brown eyes for real again.

And maybe after lunch they could do something together, just Finn and herself, go for a walk or a drive, or just hang out in the yard or his room. Okay, his room was probably a long shot. Cuddling in the hammock, one of their favorite summer activities, was right out, she knew that; Kurt had told her that being back home hadn't seemed to bring back Finn's memory at all. But it would be so good to talk to Finn again and be around him. They could start reconnecting.

* * *

Rachel arrived at noon on the dot, right when she'd been asked to come, and Carole answered the door. Rachel smiled brightly at her and was happy to get her usual warm smile in return. But after Carole welcomed Rachel in, she turned away and went to the edge of the stairs.

"Kurt, Rachel's here," Carole called out.

_Just Kurt? What about Finn?_ Rachel's face fell, though she struggled to hide it. She could hear sounds upstairs that were definitely Finn moving around in his room, so he was here.

Carole turned back to her. "Kurt's the one who asked that you be invited, Rachel," she explained. "We're trying to ease Finn back into his family life."

_I suppose I can understand that, but..._ Rachel couldn't help but stare at the woman who just a week ago had been hugging her tightly as they both prayed that the young man who was so essential to both of them would live, and wake up. Who had welcomed her into this very house, to sleep there in Finn's own bed when she wasn't at the hospital. Who had called her 'practically one of the family' for over half a year, and been more of a mother to her than the one who'd borne her. Practically wasn't actually, apparently, not when her family might be at risk, not when she'd had the shock of almost losing her son. Never mind that in less than two months Rachel would have been the one sharing Finn's life, the larger of the two bedrooms in the New York apartment was supposed to be theirs. Or perhaps Carole had really never been entirely comfortable with their relationship and its intensity, she couldn't know. Rachel did her best to paint her smile back onto her face. "I see," she managed to say. "Well I'm so glad Kurt thought of me." _Since it seems nobody else did._ She turned away for a moment to wipe her eyes, blinking back the further tears that threatened.

Carole came over and touched her shoulder. "Finn's so unsettled, I don't want to push him."

Rachel nodded. "I understand." And she did understand... mostly... but that didn't mean it wasn't extremely hard on her. Or that it was right. _Still,_ she thought as Carole went back into the kitchen, _I'm here and Finn's here. It's an opportunity._ She made up her mind to act as normally as she could, and walked forward to give Kurt a smile and a hug as he came downstairs.

They went into the kitchen for lunch, Rachel finding that a plate had been laid for her on Burt's long side of the table, next to Kurt. At least she would face Finn even if she wouldn't be in her usual spot next to him. But she wondered why it was changed, yes Carole had made her point clear but why not leave things in the way that they had been? Was Finn so far from remembering _anything_ as that? Carole had told her about the scan results that showed memories were there, so shouldn't they try to find things that would trigger them?

Lunch was make-your-own wraps, with salad, vegetables, cheese and some deli meat laid out around the table. This at least was familiar, and easy to manage for a group whose eating habits were so diverse.

Then there he was, her heart leaping as she saw his tall form coming in to sit opposite her: Finn. She gave him a beaming smile and got a hesitant one in return. _That's a start._

"You must be glad you're not cooped up in the hospital any more," she said to open the conversation. _Happy to be home? No, that would be foolish, he doesn't remember home._

"Uh, yes, it's good to be out," Finn replied, with another small smile.

_A good start. _"Have you taken advantage of your freedom yet?"

"Uh, what?"

_I suppose he didn't get that._ "You wanted to be able to look around and see things for yourself."

"Oh. Um, yeah, I went for a drive yesterday, looked around a bit."

Rachel smiled at him, her chin lifted a little, her head cocked to the side, expecting more. He frowned and just looked back at her, blinking._ Oh. I suppose I have to ask,_ she realized after a few moments. "Where did you go? Anywhere special?"

Finn's eyes flicked from her to the others, then down to his plate. "Just explored around here and then wandered around, went by some places I used to know," he said. "Driving's fine, you don't need to worry about that."

"I wasn't," Rachel protested. "You've always been an excellent driver, I'm sure it's innate." She paused as she got no response. "Innate, it's a part of you," she explained. Carole was watching them, she realized, while Burt and Kurt were eating quietly.

"I know what innate means." Finn's voice had an edge of annoyance.

_You didn't before,_ Rachel thought. _And you didn't mind my defining things for you, you never did. _She pursed her lips, regrouping. _He's probably just tired of being told things_, she justified it to herself. "Did you take a look at your old neighborhood?"

Finn ate more of his wrap, chewing slowly. Rachel looked aside at Kurt, who gave her a small shrug. The table was silent. Eventually Finn spoke. "Not yet." He paused, frowning to himself. "I guess I didn't think of it."

"It might be useful to sort of say goodbye to it, see how it's changed," Rachel suggested. He'd done that before, with her, when he'd moved. "I'd be happy to go with you."

"I don't need a minder, I'm fine." Finn's face closed up tightly.

"Of course you don't," Rachel said rapidly, trying to keep her voice light. He was taking everything as badly as he could, it seemed. "I just thought you might appreciate the company." She took another bite of her own wrap, cucumber and red peppers and sliced carrots. It was a favorite combination of hers, but she barely tasted it.

"Oh." Finn took another bite of his own. "Uh, I don't know."

"You don't have to." _This is like pulling teeth. Admittedly Finn isn't normally all that chatty, especially not Finn back then, but this is extreme._

"Well of course I don't have to go," Finn stated flatly.

"No, I -" Rachel frowned. She was so used to him knowing what she meant, from years of familiarity; it was like they didn't know how to talk to each other any more. She swallowed. "I meant, you don't have to know now. If you want me to come. I've restarted some of the voice lessons that I was teaching, but my schedule is flexible." She paused, but got no response. She cast a glance aside to Kurt, whose face betrayed how painful he found this attempted discussion. On the surface it might not seem so strange, she was doing most of the talking and Finn was focusing on his food, that was usual, but the feel of it was so very different and completely excruciating. "And I was planning on baking again soon, if you'd like some more cookies." Finn had grinned happily the first time she'd offered him baking, she remembered. That was this Finn, with mostly the same memories.

"Uh, I think we still have some," he muttered. "Thanks though."

"You _think_?" Rachel blurted out, startled. Finn not knowing exactly how many cookies were left (and what his plans were for them) was even more unlike him than any other part of this conversation. And he always wanted more to be available. Maybe he had been hurt in some way that they didn't realize.

Burt came to her rescue here. "If you didn't finish them then they're still there," he said. "I had a couple yesterday to indulge, when you offered, but that's it, they're your treat, buddy."

Finn seemed to be fine with Burt's 'buddy' comment, Rachel noticed. _That's good._ She forged on again, outwardly calm. "Well you can always have more."

"Uh, thanks." Finn swallowed, and finally smiled a little again. "They are really good. I just don't want to put you to any more trouble, you don't have to be always baking stuff for me."

_Trouble? I'd walk through fire for you, my love. I played __**football**__ for you. This is baking. _Rachel looked into his face until he met her eyes, then smiled warmly at him. "Well I don't know what I'll do with my time if I don't," she said. "I love baking. And I especially love baking for you."

Finn smiled back, still hesitant, but the tension between them easing. "Okay then. Thanks." He swallowed. "So you didn't know I'd had them before, huh?" he asked.

_Conversation. Finally. Thank you, Finn._ Rachel brightened and followed his lead. "No, I didn't know you'd had them before, you never told me," she said. "Of course you must have known when I made them for you but we'd only just gotten to know each other so perhaps you didn't want to say."

"I guess not. And I didn't tell people back when I bought them, I didn't want to share." Finn's expression was sheepish, but he was still smiling, and their eyes connected briefly. She could sink into that warm light brown gaze all day.

"At the time Anna said that some behemoth from the football team had bought them all," Rachel recounted, "but with a description like that I thought she meant Azimio or one of the other offensive line Neanderthals, emphasis on the 'offensive', and I wasn't about to try to find out which one." She shook her head with a smile. "I suppose it's far too late for me to have words with Anna about her incorrect and insulting terminology."

'What, 'behemoth'?"

"Yes. You're tall, not monstrous." She smiled a little flirtatiously. "Not remotely monstrous."

Finn shifted in his seat, getting uncomfortable under her gaze, and the tension started to return. Maybe she'd pushed things too far.

"It's quite an archaic word," Kurt put in.

"Not for someone in the Renaissance Club." But Rachel forced a laugh. "Or it shouldn't be." She searched quickly for a new topic, realizing that clever vocabulary was surely the last thing that would put Finn back at ease. _Help,_ she thought at Kurt, giving him a pleading look.

"How's your drumming?" Kurt suddenly asked. Finn turned his head sharply to Kurt. "I heard you playing the last couple of days."

"Ah, sorry," Finn muttered.

"That wasn't a complaint. Your drums are in your room, you can play them when you like unless there's a significant reason not to," Kurt clarified. "You always did before."

"It must be good to hear them again," Rachel said, looking at Kurt.

"Huh?" Finn brought his head up to look at her.

"For Kurt," Rachel explained. "He's used to hearing you practice regularly, it's not the same around here without that." Of course it was something Kurt put up with rather than liked, but the house had been eerily quiet without the drums, and she didn't like that Finn apparently thought his drumming was bothering people. He needed to be able to relax. "I'd like to hear you play again myself." Which was completely true, Rachel loved how Finn expressed himself on the drums.

"Oh, I guess. Um, maybe sometime," Finn replied. "I never really thought about that."

"That's okay. But we're all used to hearing you, it's not the same without you." Without him playing, and without _him_. "And I just listen and appreciate."

"Maybe sometime," he repeated quietly, then got up to clear the plates.

Dessert apparently needed a little preparation, since they had fresh strawberries, so they took a small break. Finn walked off into the living room, and she heard the TV come on; he was checking sports scores, though it was too early in the day to have much more than the upcoming schedule.

Rachel sighed softly. This was so difficult. It wasn't just that Finn was missing the cues she didn't normally realize she was giving, their rapport shattered, or that he was clearly pulling away from her. Finn also wasn't himself, he wasn't allowing himself to be himself. She thought back to the Finn she'd first met, and certainly he had been more self-conscious, more concerned about how he should act than he later became. She supposed it was natural that he should be like that again, and even worse since so much had changed on him, but she dearly missed the adorable goofiness that was Finn being himself, letting his inner kid shine through. That part of him was lifelong, he couldn't have lost that, but he'd reverted to a time when he suppressed that side of himself. Which of course meant he was far more uncomfortable right now than he needed to be. He was surrounded by people who truly loved him, he didn't have to second-guess himself. He could relax if he'd let himself do it.

Rachel went into the living room, where Finn was standing at the TV. He turned it off as she approached, but didn't quite meet her eyes.

"So, are you doing anything this afternoon?" Rachel asked, trying to be bright.

Finn paused for a moment before answering. "Not really."

"Would you like to do something? It's a lovely day, we could go for a walk in the park."

"Just with you?"

"Well yes just with me," she said, trying to ignore that he'd even needed to ask the question. He gave no response, so she continued. "We wouldn't have to talk if you'd rather not. But... maybe it would help if you did some things that you normally did, recently," she suggested tentatively. "That's one of them. We always found it relaxing, it's uncomplicated. And I could show you others if you'd like." What she really wanted him to do was kiss her, which would certainly qualify as something they normally did; like she had during their separation in junior year, she was largely convinced that Finn wouldn't be able to turn away from all he felt, that they both felt, when they kissed. From what he'd told her since, and his own quest for a kiss at Nationals in New York, she knew she'd been right then. And no matter how often they'd kissed since, the impact was still there, every time. But doing any activity with Finn would be good, a start, and he might find it familiar. A simple walk in the park, hand-in-hand or at least side-by-side – they'd done that a lot. And often just quietly enjoying each others' company, so now they could potentially escape the strain of trying to learn how to talk to each other again and just be together.

"It's hard enough just getting back into things I know I used to do," Finn replied, frowning. "I'll stick to those for now."

Tears sprang to Rachel's eyes. "Don't you want to remember?" she asked, her voice small.

"Of course I want to remember," Finn answered brusquely.

"Then -" But Rachel's protest was cut off.

"Look, I need some time, okay? Everything's so new."

"I know it is -"

"You said you could wait," he said shortly. "Well I need you to. Okay?"

"All right," Rachel replied hesitantly. She swallowed and nodded, her expression becoming more determined. "Yes, if that's what you need, Finn. I will wait."

"Okay." He turned away, muttering "Thanks."

"Just please, _please_, Finn, let there be something for me to wait for," Rachel whispered, too soft for Finn to hear as he walked back into the kitchen. Her mask fell and she started to tear up, bolting for the washroom so nobody would see her. She had to pull herself together somehow, she couldn't walk out before dessert and really didn't want to scare Finn any further away by breaking down. But she wasn't used to doing that, she usually let out what she felt, so keeping it in now made everything so very much harder. She wiped her eyes and splashed a little water on her face, glad that her makeup had been light enough to be essentially unaffected by her tears.

Dessert was ready so she went back into the kitchen, and she accepted the bowl of strawberries with a faked smile. She and Burt had them straight, while the others had ice cream as well. It was hard for her to swallow but she managed, eating slowly, trying to savor the taste and block out all other senses. Especially the sight of the tall figure that sat opposite her, ignoring her as he ate and talked to Burt about baseball. Now, he could talk.

Strawberries. He used to associate these with her, make private jokes about tasting berries (about kissing her, or more intimate things once they'd gone that far). For all the effort she was putting into focusing on them, they still tasted like dust, the dust of her life.

When they finished she smiled and nodded, helped Carole clear the bowls, and went into the hall to pick up her purse. Kurt followed her.

"I know you're not okay," he said softly. "I'm so sorry, I don't know why things are like this."

"No, I'm not okay at all," Rachel whispered, her mouth barely moving. "But I have to go now." If he got any more sympathetic, she would break down. If he gave her a hug, she would break down. If any of the others saw her, she would break down. She felt like she was held together by a few splintering toothpicks and if she didn't get out of there right away she was going to fall apart. "Later," she whispered.

"Okay." He moved to hug her, but she stepped back and shook her head, her jaw clenched.

She swallowed twice. "Thank you for lunch, Carole," she called out, sounding bright even as her face started to slowly crumble. "And all of you, Kurt, Burt,... Finn, thank you for having me over." With that she turned and went out of the house, walked as quickly as she could back to her car, started it, and drove around the corner before stopping and finally letting herself fall apart.

* * *

That night, as she readied herself for bed, Rachel sat at her dresser mirror and brushed her hair out. Her eyes fell on the pictures around the mirror, seeing the various different sides of Finn. Her Finn. Strong and handsome and adorably goofy and above all so loving. She started to cry again. Yes she'd told him she could wait, and she had to, but how was he ever going to remember her or even care to try if she wasn't around him at all? If he never even knew what it felt like to kiss her? When they were together he'd always sworn he couldn't get enough of their kisses, and neither could she. She craved him so, his kiss, his touch. His love. And now, when he didn't know any better, it looked like he was just going to walk away. Or push her away until things were over by default, even though she'd told him she'd never be able to get over him. _That_ was why she could wait, not because she was patient (far from it) but because she knew she didn't have a choice. He was Finn, she loved him, she was his. Even if he didn't want her.

She felt – used. Used by the man she loved more than anything, the man that wasn't really there any more. In his place was the boy whom she'd also loved but who had also been so uncertain, who had used her back then too, through negligence and ignorance and occasionally desperation, even though he hadn't meant to hurt her. She'd learned and grown from their past problems, but this version of Finn hadn't.

"'Yes, thank you, Rachel,'" she muttered under her breath as she brushed her hair violently, tears streaming from her eyes. "'Thank you for making sure I had everything I needed when I was stuck in hospital. Thank you for taking such good care of me. Now _go away_.'" She flung her brush down and sobbed.


	10. washed away like footprints in the rain

_A/N: Wow! I'm blown away by the response I'm getting to this fic. Much thanks to all of you who have reviewed, favorited, and alerted._  
_For those of you commenting on how fast I'm updating, I started planning this fic a few months ago and the major events are mostly written, so I'm not writing nearly as fast as you think I am. But finishing off chapters is addictive, especially with such great feedback. This latest chapter is a lot more choppy, unfortunately, but stages must be set._

_Also, while this isn't a sequel to my earlier fic "Best Christmas Ever", there are a few little touches (tiny bonuses for the faithful, or just consistent minor elements) that hearken back to BCE._

* * *

On Tuesday Finn found himself getting bored again, he needed something to do. He went for a run, starting to get himself back into shape after the inaction of being in hospital, and he tracked down Puck who was out cleaning pools, but he needed something more regular. So, after Puck had teased him about being idle and potentially broke with no income, he decided to drop by the tire shop to see Burt.

Burt was happy to find out that Finn wanted to give the shop a try, and showed him the basics. Finn had changed tires before, he used to do it for his mom, so he was soon at it without any difficulty. One of the older men was checking his work, but that was understandable, and as far as Finn could tell nothing had to be corrected. The other guys obviously knew him and welcomed him back, but they didn't push him about anything.

Finn got into the routine at the tire shop pretty quickly. So far he was just changing tires, but that was okay; it was simple and straightforward, and he could lose himself in the mechanical movement of it and didn't have to think. It also helped that at the shop he wore a coverall with his name on it. Sure, many of the people that he didn't recognize who called him by name probably knew him from before, but if he got twitchy about that he could glance down at the name on his chest and convince himself that maybe they were just reading it.

Still, every so often someone would look at him a little more strongly, and he knew that this was someone he'd known. The strongest of these happened on the third day he was at the shop, Thursday, he'd just finished putting a new rear tire on a red Ford when he turned and saw a man standing just at the edge of the shop entrance, staring at him. An older man, well dressed, middle height and light to medium frame, with dark hair, a grim expression, and dark eyes that were fixed so intensely on him that Finn was surprised he hadn't felt his back smoke while he'd been working. Finn looked over at the man, seeing his frown, and flinched involuntarily. He had no idea who this was, as a longshot it might be the owner of the Ford but he doubted it, he was ahead of schedule. He lowered his head for a moment and looked back up, finding the man still there, but as soon as Finn started to walk in the direction of the entrance, the man turned sharply away and left.

Somebody had wanted to check up on him, clearly, and whoever it was wasn't happy but didn't want to talk to him. But Finn had forgotten almost three years. While he hated to think that he'd pissed anyone off that much, there was far too much time missing for him to have a chance to figure out what he'd done or who that man was.

Meanwhile, every few days he stopped by the Fabray place to see Quinn. They never did anything much, just hung out really, but being around her was familiar. Her father had left a couple of years before, something embarrassing that she clearly didn't want to talk about, and Finn helped out when a few things needed fixing. Quinn had also backed off a lot on her preachiness (_probably hard to be holier-than-thou when you've had a kid at sixteen_) which got rid of that awkwardness. He didn't tell his mom that he visited Quinn, though, since from what Quinn had said his mother wouldn't be accepting.

It was a simple routine, nothing special and probably pretty dull, but it filled his time and helped him feel like he could cope and was doing something.

* * *

Friday night Burt took him to see the Reds host the Brewers. It was great being at a real major league game, at a real ballpark, and everything else melted away for Finn as he got into the game and the crowd. He preferred to watch football, with basketball a second choice since he'd played a lot of both, but that baseball crowd was something special. Yeah he knew from what he'd been told that he'd been before, that this wasn't the first time he and Burt had gone to a game, but he easily put that aside and soaked up the atmosphere.

Burt was recognized by a few people in the stands, constituents, and he talked to them for a while about the usual sort of things (life, family, work, what could make things easier for them, problems with how things were run in D.C.). He seemed to be a good representative, caring about other people, and really easy to talk to. His mom had found a good man, Finn decided.

* * *

The next Monday Finn had his first appointment with his shrink. It was just a check-in, mostly, ensuring that Finn was writing his log and was managing at home. So the shrink nodded at him, encouraged him to continue, and was particularly pleased that he'd gone back to work at the tire shop.

"Trying too hard to remember is a problem, but many things may naturally trigger memories," Finn was told. "Being in a place where you might run into those things, without having pressure on you, that's good."

The pressure he'd felt before was starting to ease as he got more used to things and ensured that he kept familiar stuff around him. Finn's day-to-day life was starting to develop a simple pattern that he found comfortable, and he was starting to relax more. He kept up his log, but there really wasn't much in it, since he didn't notice anything that seemed to be part of his lost memory. But that seemed to be fine.

* * *

Wednesday night Finn went to a Halo marathon at Puck's. Their current team was four, with Mike and Artie in addition to Finn and Puck, and the guys all welcomed him back.

There had been a few changes at the Puckerman place, most notably that Puck had co-opted one of the downstairs rooms as his. It had more space than his old bedroom upstairs, so they could all fit in there to play, even with Artie's wheelchair and Finn's long legs. It was cramped with them all in there but it felt good. Gaming was familiar, easy, no pressure beyond the game itself.

But Finn was surprised when, after pizza, Puck pulled out a sequel he didn't know, _Halo:Reach_.

"I thought we were sticking with Halo 3," Finn protested.

"Oh come on, _kid_," Puck said. "This is our main game for this team."

"_Kid_? Really?" Finn stared over at his friend. He was pretty sure he'd never have put up with this from Puck, not ever. "You're just a few months older, and you call me _kid_?"

"_Really._" Puck smirked. "How old are you?"

"Eighteen."

"Eighteen-year-old Finn Hudson plays Reach. So get with it." With that, Puck threw the remaining game controller at Finn. Finn caught it, frowned at first, but started to play as he listened to the instructions Mike gave him. It was different, but he soon adjusted and was able to contribute to the team effort.

An hour later they took a break, and Puck cracked open a beer for himself, offering Finn one too.

"Ah, no thanks," Finn said, waving it away. He frowned. "Did I?"

"You mean did your mom's anti-alcohol lectures eventually wear off? No," Puck said. "You make a great designated driver, most of the time, and the one time you drank on Halo night you couldn't play worth shit, though that started even before we hit the beer. I just thought I'd give you the option, if you wanted to this time."

"'This time'?"

"Finn 2.0. Or 1.1 actually."

"What's the difference?"

"1.1 would be younger. _Kid._"

Finn rolled his eyes, and looked around the room to distract himself from Puck's age putdowns. There were a lot of certificates up on the shelves by his desk, which didn't seem like Puck.

Puck saw Finn's attention on them. "Reminds me I can do something," he said shortly.

Finn went closer. Most of them were for Glee, Sectional wins and Regional wins and a fancy one for the National championship. Some had little pictures stuck in front of them, a low-quality still of Puck performing a solo bit. The other people around him weren't fully visible, though Finn didn't look too closely. And at the end of the shelf, a plaque with a picture of a football: McKinley Titans, Champions, 2011.

Finn's stomach fell. "You guys actually won?" he said with disbelief, not just that it had been possible but that he'd missed it.

"_Us_ guys," Mike emphasized, coming up behind Finn. "You too."

"I guess... it just feels like I missed it, like after all that time playing together you won without me."

Puck groaned and shook his head. "Dude, you've gotta stop thinking like the stuff you don't remember didn't happen to you. Your mom must have your game MVP trophy somewhere."

"MVP?" Finn turned to face Puck, agape. _Do I want to hear about this?_ he thought. _It's great, but won't the details screw up my memory even more?_

"Yep. Might not have been my choice, yeah you won the game for us but we almost couldn't play it at all -"

"No details, please," Finn interjected.

"Yeah, okay. Sorry." Puck frowned. "Anyway, it happened. You were there. Don't hear about it if you think that'll be a problem for you, but that doesn't change it one bit. You didn't miss a thing."

"Huh."

"Hey, we should get back to the game," Artie called out. "If we want to finish it tonight."

"Continue on Saturday?" Finn asked.

"Can't, it's date night," Mike replied. "The really good date night."

"Really good?"

"Tina's parents have their date night on Saturday too."

"That's... _weird,_" Finn commented.

"What? No, we don't double date, why would you think that," Mike retorted. "But they go out, and then we have the house to ourselves." He grinned. "So no way do I exchange that for spending Saturday night with you guys. You're not all usually available anyway, or you weren't."

"No?"

"You're engaged, Finn," Artie put in.

Finn frowned at this reminder. "What, did she keep me in line or something?"

Puck laughed hard and long at this.

"How is that so freaking funny, Puckerman?" Finn asked, annoyed.

"I doubt she even had to try," Puck smirked. "You were even less likely to give up your date nights than Chang here. I asked once and you just gave me some wacky grin and shook your head."

"'Some wacky grin'?" Finn couldn't see himself doing that. He tried to give them a grin.

"Yep. But no, not like that," Puck said. "It was kinda special."

Artie sighed as Finn tried again. "Look, you're not going to be able to do it," he said. "It's one of those 'meaningful but I'm not telling you why' facial expressions, and you won't know what it means anymore. And you said you don't want to think about this stuff, so can we get back to the game please? Since we can't continue on Saturday?"

Finn was uncomfortable with the topic anyway, so he let the matter drop, and they returned to the game.

* * *

Now that he was working part-time at the tire shop, Finn found he was going through shampoo and body wash quickly. Warned that under absolutely no circumstances was he to _ever_ use any of Kurt's (which was apparently really expensive to replace), he stopped by the drugstore on his way home from the shop late Thursday afternoon.

He also needed more sunscreen, he remembered; he'd found his existing bottle had been smashed a bit and had started to leak. He got that quickly, and the shampoo, but the body wash manufacturers had a wide range. He spotted the stuff he remembered he used to use, before, as well as the stuff he'd been using since he got out of the hospital, and wasn't sure whether he wanted to stick with the new stuff or revert to the old. The new stuff hadn't existed back then, so it wasn't like he'd rejected it before, and it might be more, kind of, _manly_, even if it wasn't as familiar. He sniffed at both of them, still undecided.

He was at the end of the aisle close to the pharmacy at the back of the store, and as he considered his options, he heard the pharmacist talking to a customer.

"So you've been taking these for just over six months, that's a good time to check in," the pharmacist said. "Have things been going smoothly?"

_Kind of nosy I guess_, Finn thought idly, _though I suppose they check on these things for medical reasons_. But he became much more drawn to the pharmacist's advising when he heard the voice that replied.

"Yes, I haven't noticed any significant problems." That was Rachel, wasn't it? Apparently on some sort of long-term medication? Finn sidled closer, curious and a little shocked.

"Are you on any additional medication that you weren't before?"

"No." Her voice was formal, tightly controlled.

"How about any side effects or physical changes, have you experienced any?" the pharmacist continued.

"Just a few at first, the usual, but it settled down very quickly," she said. "I don't feel physically different from before I started taking them, the adjustment was about as smooth as could be expected, I think."

"That's great. I see by the refills on the new prescription that your doctor has similar confidence. Just read the insert, make note of anything that might be a relevant side effect, and bring it to your doctor's attention."

"I will."

"And ensure you continue to take it consistently, no exceptions."

"Of course. Thank you."

It wouldn't do for her to see him here, Finn realized, especially not in a place where he could hear her. Finn made a quick decision on the body wash – the new stuff had been working just fine so far, stick with it – and strode down the aisle towards the front, hoping to turn into the next one so she wouldn't see him.

Which naturally meant that he ran straight into her when he turned. _Shit._ He put a hand out to brace her, but quickly pulled it back once she steadied herself.

Rachel looked up at him, her eyes wide. "Oh." In shock, or was that fear? He couldn't tell. She was certainly trying to hide her full prescription bag, her arm curling around it defensively. "Hello, Finn," she said, trying to give him a smile.

His eyes followed the movement of her arm and saw the ring that still sparkled on her hand. He frowned and abruptly turned his head away, recoiling in reflex from that reminder of the life he didn't know and the man he was supposed to be but wasn't. He moved enough so she saw his reaction; he heard her single half-strangled sob and looked down at her to see tears glitter in her eyes.

"I'm sorry," he apologized, not liking to see her hurt. "But I'm not who you need me to be, not now." He wasn't sure why she was still wearing the ring.

"How do you know who I need you to be," Rachel forced out, her voice pained, her face tight.

"I'm not him, I'm not the Finn you know. I'm sorry," he repeated, turning away from her. He knew he was hurting her but he couldn't help it, he couldn't be the man she was engaged to, he didn't remember any of that. Maybe he should just leave, he'd found what he came for. A heave of sudden indrawn breath drew his attention back to her, however, as she started to gasp repeatedly, maybe hyperventilating, and he wanted to help, he couldn't leave her like this... but he was the problem, he was why she was upset, he _had_ to leave. He must seem like such an imposter to her. He raised his hand reflexively towards her shoulder, but caught himself before he touched her. He stepped further back, uncertain, and was relieved to see that the pharmacist had seen her distress and was coming.

He should go. _Yes. Now._ "I'm sorry," he muttered again, and went to the front of the store. He was tempted to just drop his intended purchases and leave, but the line was short. He hardly saw the cashier, his mind still on the girl he'd left behind him.

"Are you going to be okay? Miss?" he heard the pharmacist say.

Rachel's reply was muffled at first. Then he heard her say "Thank you, but there's nothing you can do."

Finn paid, grabbed his bag, and got out of there as fast as he could. He tried to put it out of his mind; he was sorry about the situation but didn't see what he could do about it.

* * *

Saturday he had lunch over at Quinn's, and then he went back into town with her as she ran some errands. One of these was at her church, which lay next to the park that also adjoined a seniors center and the local synagogue. Finn parked the car on the far side of the park and escorted her across to the church, walking with her on the path that wound around the pond in the middle. The weather was beautiful, sunny with just a few clouds, and he enjoyed the walk.

"Did we do this?" Finn asked her after a few minutes. "Walk like this, I mean."

"No," Quinn answered matter-of-factly. "We were both just too busy, I suppose. Not our sort of thing." She looked quizzically at him. "But you remember that."

"Well, sure, we didn't when I remember us going out, but we went out longer, so we might have later. I just wondered. It's nice." He gave her a smile. He looked over at the rest of the park, at the pond with the ducks, the trees, seeing all the other people out for walks and picnics, kids playing, families, couples walking hand-in-hand... he took a deep breath and felt himself relax. This was really good. He took Quinn's hand in his as they continued to walk along.

He waited outside the church while Quinn dropped off the package she'd brought, and then took her hand again for the walk back.

"Thank you for keeping me company, Finn," Quinn said as they slowly made their way back around the pond. "Having you along makes running these errands a lot less hectic."

"Just returning the favor," Finn replied. She stopped and looked at him, a question in her eyes. "It's like – you're the only person other than Puck who looks at me and just sees what's there," Finn explained quietly, standing close to her. "Everyone else always seems to be noticing what I'm not, that I'm not that other Finn they expect. Even Puck, sometimes. You don't, you seem to be fine with the old me. It's nice." He smiled at her. "Comfortable." He cupped her face. "Thank you."

Quinn looked into Finn's eyes, affected by how close they were. He looked back at her and felt his heart beat a little faster, the distance between their faces closing quickly as they sank into a kiss. He wrapped his arms around her and they embraced tightly.

Unknown to them, they were in full view of the Jewish congregation leaving the synagogue next to that end of the park, and especially of a certain pair of deep brown eyes that rapidly filled with tears.

After a while they pulled apart, Finn smiling down at Quinn. Quinn's smile was more hesitant, however. "Aren't we getting carried away, Finn?" she asked.

"Maybe," Finn said quietly, but he took her hand. "This is comfortable, though."

"You know I'm going away to Yale in a few weeks."

"I know. But that's then, not now." They walked quietly together for a while longer, Finn wondering what things would be like if his life was more in keeping with how he remembered it. "Quinn..." he said eventually.

"Yes?"

"If I'd been in the hospital when we were together, like if the accident had happened back when I thought it was..."

"At the beginning of sophomore year?"

"Yeah." He glanced over at her, then off into the distance. "What would you have done?"

"Well of course I would have visited you," Quinn said.

"Well yeah."

"I don't understand."

"I was stuck in there for a while, for observation and tests, you wouldn't have been able to be there all the time," Finn tried to explain.

"Of course not, I would have had school and Cheerios and all that," she replied. "But you occupied yourself, didn't you?"

"Mostly. I had some stuff to look at and do."

"Well that would help. And I'm sure I could have had some things for you, Puck would know what you needed just as he did now." She smiled. "I would have edited his suggestions, of course, I'm sure your family did too."

"Uh... yeah, I guess." But Finn frowned a little, looking off into the trees; he'd seen Puck's response to Finn's games and magazines that had been brought in for him, and it had been approval, not recognition. Puck hadn't had anything to do with it even though he'd obviously agreed with the choices. And Finn had liked the choices too, he hadn't changed that much. But of course Quinn wasn't really interested in those sorts of things.

Still... Finn shook his head, and refocused on here and now and the girl next to him.


	11. never ever win without a fight

_A/N: Wow. Masses of comments on the last chapter, can't think why :-) Thanks to all for your feedback and your appreciation for my writing (even if you didn't like what happened - you weren't supposed to). Hope you enjoy this latest development._

* * *

Sunday afternoon at home, Quinn had just cleared things away after a solo lunch when she heard a loud knock at the door. Answering it, she was surprised to see an angry Puck, who pushed straight into the hall and then turned to glare at her. "It's about time you were in," he growled.

"Good to see you too, Puck," Quinn said sarcastically.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Puck yelled at her.

"Language," Quinn hissed. "And what's your problem this time?"

"You and Hudson, that's what my problem is," Puck snarled.

Quinn rolled her eyes. "Some things never change, is that it? I'm just helping him out. He doesn't remember most of his friends very well and he's getting stressed out by everyone's expectations. He remembers being with me so it's easier on him to be around me." She glared back at Puck. "Not that it's any of your business what I do."

"I'd say it's my business if you're trying to drag my friend back into the mud of his past," he said, his face grim. "He's messed up, this isn't some... _opportunity_ to change his life back to what it was." He clenched his fists at his sides, barely controlling his fury.

"I'm not trying to drag him anywhere," Quinn protested. "I've told him about everything that happened, including the _full_ truth about you and Beth. I'm heading off to Yale soon anyway, and believe me I'm not looking back. I'm just making things a bit easier for him right now."

"You do that with your lips do you?" Puck accused.

Quinn was taken aback, but Puck's meddling angered her. "I can kiss who I want. Yes we had a child together, and we'll always both love Beth, but we're done. It's none of your business who I kiss."

"Or when, or where? 'Cause Saturday right outside the synagogue wasn't your best choice."

"It just happened," Quinn spat defensively. "And how did you find out anyway? I know you're not a regular at Temple."

"My mom is," Puck stated.

Quinn frowned, absorbing that, but stayed tense. "So why did she tell you? Does she know you're still that hung up on me that you need to be told who I'm with?"

"She was worried my friend was getting hysterical -"

"It was a _kiss!_"

"The Berrys are regulars at Temple too, not everything is about you!" Puck roared, his face mere inches away.

Quinn stepped back, reeling. She hadn't considered Rachel at all. After a moment, though, she collected herself, hurt that, even when it came to Puck, once again something she'd thought was about her turned out to be about Rachel instead.

"Oh, of course, Rachel. Silly me, not realizing that everything's really about Rachel." Quinn's defensiveness returned.

"Not everything. This. Him. _Her fianc__é__._"

"She doesn't own Finn, ring or no ring, and he doesn't even remember her. If he wants to spend time with me why shouldn't I?"

"Oh I don't know, because you're going to Yale and not going to look back?" He pushed her words back at her, and they stood glaring at each other for a few breaths. Puck got his temper a bit more under control, but still spat out his words. "Finn doesn't know what he's doing, and he doesn't know what he wants. But he's the best friend I've ever had, and if right now he needs me to stop him from destroying the life that I know he really wants, that's what I'm gonna do. And if you give a damn about him you'd do the same."

"How do you know what he wants if he doesn't know himself?" But Quinn's retort had lost a lot of her energy as Puck's words sank in.

"It's what he's always wanted. We've been through this dance a few times before and it never changes. Whatever that accident may have done to his head, he's still Finn Hudson." He shook his head at her. "And I guess you haven't changed much either. You're messing with things not because you really want to, not because you really want Finn or love Finn, but just because you can. And you obviously don't care who you're hurting or whose lives you're fucking up."

Puck moved back to the still-open door, then turned to face Quinn again, who was too stunned to move. "You know, Quinn, I thought you were finally growing up. But when you do stuff like this -" he shrugged. "I think Beth'll get there before you do." He gave her a last glare. "_Fix it._"

* * *

Quinn spent the rest of the afternoon in her room. She started out crying at the viciousness of Puck's attack, then thinking about the truth of what he'd said... then crying again as she realized what she'd done and how badly she'd slid back into being the old Quinn, the one who went after Finn because she could get any boy she wanted and he was cute and popular. It hadn't been an adult relationship then, in fact she'd barely cared what he'd wanted at the time, and she wasn't acting adult now either. She'd been flattered by Finn coming around to see her, enjoying the attention, but that was all, and it was so selfish of her to take that when it was at the expense of something so much more for someone else.

But this was Finn, and she'd never quite gotten over the thought that Finn had been _her_ boyfriend first and Rachel should have stayed away from him from the start. No matter that she'd cheated on him with Puck. No matter that she'd only really been concerned about him as her property, how he made her look good and feel good about her status and power. No matter that his heart had never properly been hers, Rachel had filled a void with Finn in that she'd actually cared for him and opened herself up to him. She'd never seen Finn so happy as when he was with Rachel, even though a lot of the time she'd preferred to ignore it, resenting that it showed how much she had fallen short.

Quinn dried her eyes and then tried, for a moment, to put herself in Rachel's shoes, to imagine losing something that important. She couldn't. She'd meant what she'd told Rachel when Rachel had asked her for advice on Finn's proposal – she'd thought she had loved some of the guys she'd dated, but she knew she wasn't going to think about them in the future or remember why she'd thought she'd cared at the time. She just hadn't felt that deeply for anyone, ever. Except maybe Beth. At the time she'd tried to pretend that giving away her child hadn't hurt her, but she'd been lying to herself. Even then it had taken Rachel to bring her to her senses and help her realize that to truly love Beth she had to want what was best for her child even if that wasn't herself.

Quinn had told Rachel that no boy was that important, and for a long time she hadn't thought that Finn and Rachel's connection could really be so strong. But even though Quinn had thought it foolish, Rachel loved Finn so much that for her he was worth risking everything else for, including the dreams she'd had her whole life. Quinn couldn't imagine loving anyone that much. But just because she couldn't understand how much Rachel was bleeding now didn't mean that she should be turning the knife.

That evening Quinn steeled herself and went to the Berry house to apologize to Rachel. She was scared; she'd once slapped Rachel for being loved by Finn, not for anything Rachel had done, so how much worse did she herself deserve for what she'd done now?

The door was answered by LeRoy Berry, who frowned darkly at her. "What are you doing here?" he asked coldly. Quinn bit her lip. _Of course, they go to Temple as a family, so Rachel's dads saw the whole thing too._

"I need to talk to Rachel," Quinn said hesitantly. "To apologize. I don't know what you must think of me, but please believe me, I'm not here to hurt her any more."

Penetrating eyes surveyed her and her demeanor as she waited for an answer. "I'll go ask her if she's willing to see you," he finally said. The main door was left open, but she was not asked in.

Quinn waited. A few minutes later LeRoy came back downstairs and opened the screen door for Quinn. "You can go up," he said. "But she's very fragile." He glared at her, a caution implied in his look.

Quinn ascended the stairs and went to Rachel's room. The door was ajar, but she knocked. "Rachel?"

"Come in." Rachel's voice sounded choked, like she'd been crying all day. _Perhaps she has been._

Quinn pushed the door open and went into Rachel's room. The dark-haired girl sat slumped on her bed, her back to Quinn. She was slowly playing with something on a chain, and as Quinn walked around the bed she realized that it was Rachel's engagement ring.

Now Quinn could see Rachel in profile, but Rachel didn't look up, intent on the slow slide back and forth of the ring on the chain in her hands.

"I am so sorry, Rachel," Quinn said, putting all the sincerity she could into her voice.

"What for?" Rachel's reply was numb, and she kept her eyes on her ring.

Quinn sighed internally. _Rachel isn't making this easy,_ she thought. _I suppose I don't deserve it to be._ "I know you saw us kissing," she said. "Finn and I."

"Yes," Rachel replied, but the sound was barely audible. She stopped moving the chain, and the ring stilled.

"And I'm sorry. I shouldn't have. It's not as if I still love him, I don't know if I ever really did actually, certainly not the way you do," Quinn babbled a little. "I think I got sucked into a bit of memory loss myself, just through the time I've been spending with him. I thought I was helping him adjust by providing a familiar face, since so much has changed for him since the time he remembers, but we went too far." She swallowed. "_I_ went too far," she admitted. "I'm the one who actually knows better. I didn't mean to take advantage of his amnesia, or to help keep him stuck in his past, but I did. I'm sorry I did and I'm going to stop, right away." She went to Rachel and touched her shoulder, concerned by the girl's lack of reaction. "Rachel?"

Rachel finally raised her head up to face Quinn, her eyes red, her face layered with tracks over tracks of tears. She tried to speak, and sniffled a few times before she could get anything out. "I guess I should thank you or something," she choked out, lowering her head as she started to cry again.

"No – Rachel!" Quinn went to Rachel's side, sitting next to her and putting an arm around her shoulders. However awkward comfort from her might be right now, Quinn couldn't help but be wrenched by the other girl's obvious misery, especially as Rachel started to sob. She'd caused this, she had to fix it somehow. "I was completely wrong and I'd change it all if I could," she said softly, trying to penetrate Rachel's despair. "Even hit him over the head for you if that would help." Her joke was rewarded by a small hiccup in Rachel's crying. "But you can't keep crying like this, you'll damage your voice."

"I don't care."

_When does Rachel not care abut her voice? This is really bad._ She heard a step in the hall outside and glanced back to see LeRoy hovering outside the door, his face crumpled in sorrow at not being able to help his daughter. "Of course you care," Quinn insisted. "You're Rachel Berry. And Finn loves to hear your voice. If he doesn't remember that, you'll have to show him again, so you need to take care of it." Next to her, Rachel's heaving sobs slowed, then stilled.

"He said he needs some time."

_Of course he has, he always does,_ Quinn thought. _But he's not really making very good use of it because he's just avoiding the issue, as usual._ "He's wanted that before, hasn't he," she commented. "But how well did those times work out?"

"Not well," Rachel admitted. Her voice was hoarse but had lost its numb flatness.

"So why listen to him now?" Quinn asked rhetorically, glad to see that Rachel's mood was lifting slightly. "But this isn't you," she cajoled. "Well right now it is, but there's so much more to you. You need to show Finn why he fell in love with you, and you can't do that like this." She looked at Rachel's face until the other girl met her eyes. "You can't give up on him, Rachel. You've won him over before, you can do it again if you have to. But you have to show him who you really are. Can you do that?"

Rachel looked back at Quinn. "It's so hard, it hurts so much."

_I know,_ Quinn wanted to say, but she really didn't know. She tried to think quickly, while she still had Rachel's attention. "Do you want him?"

"Yes."

"Do you love him?"

"Yes." Stronger.

"More than anything?"

"Yes." Stronger still.

"Does it matter that it's hard?"

And Rachel gave her a small smile. "No."

Quinn smiled back. "Besides, Finn always says that Hudsons don't give up easily," she said. She gestured at the engagement ring that still dangled from the chain in Rachel's hands. "You're supposed to be a Hudson, someday, right?"

"Right," Rachel said. She sniffled, her tears drying up. "Thank you, Quinn," she said. "Really."

"Just trying to make things right." She hugged Rachel, then stood. "You and Finn are a force of nature, Rachel," she said. "I'm sure it would take a lot more than a bump on the head to keep you two apart." With that Quinn left, nodding at LeRoy's small smile of thanks as she passed him in the hall.


	12. put aside the alienation

_A/N: I'm going to space the next few updates out a bit more; this chapter transitions to the next general section of the plot, which I need to bash into a bit better shape before I roll it out. I should still have something for you every few days. Much thanks for all your appreciation and feedback, as always. -HLine_

* * *

Early Tuesday afternoon Finn went by the Fabray house to see Quinn again, but when she answered the door his smile was met with a frown.

"I suppose you should come in, but you can't stay long," she said. "We do need to talk, though, so I'm glad you came."

"What's going on?" Finn asked, confused, as he followed her into the front hall. Things between them had been comfortable, simple even, more simple than he remembered actually; this sudden change was unexpected.

"Finn... I started spending time with you again just to help you out," Quinn explained. "To make it easier for you, since you remembered me and you didn't remember most of your other friends. But we went too far. We shouldn't have kissed, Finn." She grimaced. "We especially shouldn't have kissed in public."

"Oh." _Well we did get carried away, I suppose, but... I don't get it._

"Look, I'm leaving," Quinn said. "I'm going to Yale in a couple of weeks. And I shouldn't have done this, spent time with you again. It was kind of nice, for a while, to turn back the clock, to be with the old you again, and pretend that everything that went wrong didn't. But I shouldn't have and we need to stop."

"You told me about everything, about Puck and the baby," Finn said. "You've been honest with me now, even if you weren't then."

"It's not the same as actually remembering it happen to you," Quinn insisted. "You don't remember how it felt, how angry you were at how I'd manipulated you. If hearing about something really brought it back, you'd let people tell you more things, and show you more things, like things about you and Rachel. You'd try spending time with her."

"I guess." Finn just stood and looked at her, puzzled. Quinn was the last person he thought would be pushing him towards Rachel, especially with how things had been going.

"You were great together," Quinn said. "Much better than you and me, you could be friends too and we never were. I got in the way of you two a lot and I'm not proud of that or of how I treated you. When you took up with her, and when you left me for her again, it hurt a lot, but really most of that was my pride." She smiled thinly. "There's really no point in us trying again, Finn," she said. "Even if I wasn't leaving, even if there was more between us in the first place – I'd just be waiting for the other shoe to drop." She looked seriously at Finn. "You told me once that you felt that you were tethered to Rachel," she said. "And someday, you're going to look into those brown eyes again, or hear her sing, and that connection will be there, even if you don't know why. And I can't be waiting around for that, or even worse hoping it doesn't happen. Because you two were really great together." She touched his shoulder. "And I'm probably the last person who would want to admit that, so you have to believe me."

"So... we're done?" This reaction wasn't what Finn had been expecting at all.

"We never really got started. Not then, not now. Not even in between. Yes we got carried away and kissed, but I'm pretty sure you didn't really feel anything, other than familiarity, and I know I didn't." She winced. "'Familiar' and 'comfortable' isn't what you should feel when you kiss someone."

"I -" Finn stumbled. He hadn't really felt anything much, just old memories. "I might not feel it, I don't feel a lot of things in my life right now," he mumbled.

"So what, you'll just do these things anyway? Come on, Finn. You may still think you're a kid, but you're not. You're an adult, you've graduated high school, you're old enough to vote and to fight and die for your country, and back in January you realized that Rachel meant so much to you that you wanted to spend the rest of your life with her. Everyone was completely stunned by that, by the way, including Rachel, so you must have really meant it. That's not a perspective I can relate to, though I hope I have that ahead of me sometime. I thought she was crazy to agree back then, but..." she shrugged. "If anyone could make it work it would be the two of you."

"But I don't remember any of that." It sounded unbelievable that he would have done that, wanted anyone so much, though apparently he had.

"Then that's what needs to be fixed, not you and me. Those things all still happened, even if you don't remember them, and much as I hate to admit it they were a lot better than anything we had together. Look, we were kids, and I was obsessed with being popular and trying to map out the perfect life, one way or another. None of that stuff matters now, of course. And you were the star quarterback – the team actually started winning, if you can believe that – and you could have almost any girl in the school, just because you were cute and nice and really popular. So we were the ultimate popular power couple, and everything we did had something to do with that. Do you even remember us doing anything where I wasn't picky about whether it was the thing we should be doing?"

Finn's face fell even further. "Not really. Never really thought about it."

"I made pretty sure that you didn't," Quinn asserted. "What a bitch, right? If I think about it honestly, I was. Dating you actually made me worse that way, because ultimate popularity was so close. I didn't date you the person as much as I dated the quarterback. I cared that you were popular. Rachel didn't, she just cared about you. And I encouraged you to go along with the bullies, the ones that picked on people like Kurt, and Artie, and Rachel... because that was what popular kids do. I started changing after I joined Glee and got to know them, and after the pregnancy came out and they supported me so much, but I still slid back into my old ways the next year when I was trying to be Prom Queen and you and Rachel were split up." She sighed. "You were far too easy to control, except when it came to music, and to Rachel," she said. "And she's controlling except when it comes to you, she listens to you. I didn't." She laughed hollowly. "I'm not going to now either, but that's because this time I really do know better than you do."

"Why did you join Glee, then?" Finn asked. "It's one of the least popular things you can do."

"To keep hold of you," Quinn admitted. "A lot of good came out of it, I'm really glad I've been part of it, but in the beginning I saw the look in your eyes when you and Rachel sang together, and I didn't like it." She looked sincerely at Finn. "That's just a few weeks away," she stressed. "Just a few weeks after when you've rolled back to. Even without everything that's happened in between, all the things you don't remember, you're still the same guy who fell in love with Rachel. With the girl who inspired you, talked to you, baked for you, studied with you, and always helped you. Who understood you. All things that I'm sorry to admit I never even considered doing for you. Or for anyone. I've never found anything that meaningful myself, but maybe someday I will." She went to the door and held it open for him. "I hope something amazing is out there for me and I'm going for it. You need to as well."

Finn followed her to the door, but stopped to look at her as he passed by. "So that's it, huh?"

"Yes." She gave him a tight smile. "I suppose there's something nice about being the one saying 'no' to you for a change, it's always been the other way around before. But if you were yourself, if you remembered all those things and what you feel, you wouldn't even be asking. You always wanted Rachel more, even when things happened so you couldn't be together." She gave a brittle laugh. "There was even a joke on Jacob's blog, back in junior year, what's Finn doing with Quinn again, has he lost his memory?"

"That's mean."

"Oh, and I was never mean, right?" She paused. "I was awful. I've tried to be better. But what made that joke so hurtful, but so funny for everyone else, is that it was true, that's the only way it really made sense. Even I don't know why you went out with me again. It was probably your pride too, because you were hurt. That's a bad reason. We don't have a good reason, we didn't then and we don't now. So goodbye, Finn, and good luck. I hope it all comes back for you, I really do. But if high school has taught me anything, it's that life doesn't need to pass you by unless you let it."

Finn paused. This was goodbye, he realized. She was going off to college, and he – he had to think about what she'd told him, about the life he'd had that he'd forgotten. He swallowed. "Goodbye, Quinn," he mumbled as he left, his eyes down. "And thank you. For everything."

"Just don't wait too long. She leaves for New York in three weeks."

As Finn drove home in his mom's car, he had to acknowledge that Quinn was right about him needing to accept his missing time. He wasn't the same guy he'd been at the start of sophomore year; most obviously at the moment, he drove a lot better (and legally). He knew his way around a car, too, he was doing well working part-time at the tire shop, and he was glad to be out of high school, even though he missed some of the simple structure it provided. It was cowardly of him to just take some of the things the intervening time had given him without dealing with whatever else it had done to him as well. If he claimed to be eighteen-year-old Finn Hudson, as Puck had commented, he should try _being _eighteen-year-old Finn Hudson.

And wanting something amazing to be out there for him, like Quinn said – sure, he wanted that, who didn't? Everyone had already told him what the other him had decided that was. Quinn's description of everything Rachel had done for him and been for him certainly sounded like what he'd want, someone who really cared about _him_, not just who he was. And hearing that from Quinn of all people was unexpected, Quinn hated to lose and to make mistakes, and she hated even more to admit she'd been wrong. For her to tell him that someone else was so much better for him than she was... even with their relationship long in the past for her, he could tell that her admission had been very difficult. Would she do that if it wasn't important? Certainly she thought it was true. And Rachel did seem to understand him, even as he was now, she hadn't had to ask anyone what he needed in the hospital, she'd just gone ahead and made it happen. But he didn't feel anything like that himself, he didn't feel a connection to her now, and knowing who it was supposed to be for him just made it worse. Harder. Like it was some sort of arranged marriage. How could he be expected to just go along with it? And how could he live up to all that expectation about who he was, the himself that he'd forgotten how to be?

Finn exhaled in a rush. He just didn't know what to do about Rachel. And he'd really bailed on her, yeah sure he'd been overwhelmed and needed some time, but it wasn't like he'd done anything with it, he'd mostly just been stalling because he hadn't known what to do. He'd treated his forgotten three years and the changes they'd produced in his life as the problem, not the fact that he couldn't remember them. He hadn't asked for this but neither had she, and he hadn't even tried to get to know her, not really. He'd just hurt her.

_Stalling. And now she leaves for New York in three weeks. Shit._

* * *

When Finn got home he heard sounds of arguing coming up from the basement.

Kurt's voice came first. "Well I don't see why I shouldn't have _my friend_ over," he said loudly.

"You know why!" That was his mom, frustrated. Finn frowned; he didn't like the tone Kurt was taking with his mom. Nobody got to yell at his mom.

"No I don't," Kurt yelled, clearly losing his cool. "I know you have some sort of problem with it, but I also know you like her or at least you did!"

"I do, very much, but you _know_ Finn has to be my priority right now." She wasn't too far off yelling either.

"For her too, but you won't let her." Kurt's voice had lost the yelling edge, which was good; it sounded more like pleading now.

_Her_, Finn thought. _He means Rachel, Mom doesn't want him to ask Rachel over because of me. _He felt his stomach sink. Yeah he was having a hard time with everyone's expectations, and Rachel was the biggest problem of all, but he didn't want people to treat him like he was made of glass either, and have other problems themselves because of it. _Bad enough __**my**__ life got wrecked. _Hell, he'd started to get a bit jealous of how well his mom got along with Kurt, and now here they were in a shouting match about how to treat him.

"He needs stability. Home is confusing enough for him, he needs to adjust to his family first -"

Kurt cut her off. "Isn't he doing that? And there's a ring that says she should be part of his family, and they've been close since before this family existed. She's the love of his life, but he doesn't remember her so he's treating her like she's _nothing_, and for some reason you're supporting him. Do you have any idea how much pain she's in?"

"Do I know what it's like to lose someone, is that what you're asking?"

There was briefly silence from downstairs. Finn moved closer to the stairs but still heard nothing. Then Kurt's voice came again, speaking much more softly.

"I am so sorry, Carole, I didn't mean anything like that, and I didn't mean to yell," Kurt said, sounding choked up. "We've all been there, everyone in this house has lost someone they loved." He sighed. "But Rachel's right there too, this is killing her, and it's not necessary. _Finn's alive and well._ Can't she get to know him again? Or try to help him remember?" He paused. "Just think about it, please Carole. How can Finn get used to his life again if that doesn't include her? She was going to _be_ his life, what he has now is just _unnatural_."

_Good question_, Finn thought, his insides twisting at thinking about how much pain he'd been causing Rachel. _'Cause, yeah, that would have been the plan, we were supposed to get married. _But he still didn't feel like he was ready for any of that, he was a teenager, and he didn't know her. _But I should._

Finn heard someone coming up from downstairs, and headed up quickly to his room. He didn't want to get caught eavesdropping and definitely didn't want to have to talk about what he'd heard before he had a chance to think about it.

He closed his door and flopped onto his bed, Kurt's words still echoing in his mind: '_Do you have any idea how much pain she's in?'_ Also Puck's words, from just after he'd woken up: _'Bet she still likes that better than you not talking to her.'_ And Quinn, today: _'Rachel meant so much to you that you wanted to spend the rest of your life with her.' _And they were going to, until he couldn't remember. But she did remember, still loved him and wanted him, and she couldn't do anything about it. Especially since he'd pushed her away. Not that she would really go. _'My world is better knowing you exist even if it hurts,'_ she'd said. That was a lot to take in, that someone felt like that about him, but would he really wish that away? Not just having that, but being the sort of person who could inspire that. Having someone that you were truly connected to, _tethered_, as Quinn had told him he'd said about himself and Rachel.

He needed to remember, to see if he could actually be that person. He owed it to her, to the girl Quinn had told him about, who had helped him, listened to him, and inspired him. And he owed it to himself, not to lose something that good from his life. He could try, at least, see whether or not it was something he wanted. He hadn't tried at all, he'd been too annoyed at finding himself supposedly committed to a girl he didn't remember choosing to have considered why the self that he didn't remember being might have chosen her. That his older self, memories intact, might actually have known better than his younger self did. An older self that would definitely kick his ass right now, if that was possible, for how badly he'd hurt her. She'd asked him if he wanted to remember, and he'd said that he had, but he'd really just been rejecting everything he'd been told about his 'new' life because he didn't know it and hadn't had any say in it. Including her. _Especially_ her. Yeah it was really hard being around her but – _a lot of the time if you take the easy way out all you get is out._

* * *

At dinner he heard that Kurt was going out to a movie that night, over on the other side of town.

"I think my car's blocking yours, I'll move it," Carole commented.

"No need, she's picking me up," Kurt said. "No sense in both of us paying for gas, especially now that it's so expensive."

"Yeah, that was a big shock too, gas has sure gone up a lot in the last three years," Finn commented, trying to be part of the conversation while still distracted about what was going on. _She. Rachel? Does that mean Rachel's coming here to get him?_

He was sitting in the living room after dinner when he heard a car pull up, and went to the window to look. _And there she is, and – wow._ He looked at her as she stepped out of her car and came up the walk – soft wavy dark hair, red lips, tanned arms and legs, wearing a very short sundress, light cream with little red shapes that might be cherries sprinkled all over it. He hadn't looked at her that much before, he realized, not properly, he'd been too spooked over who she was supposed to be to him. But now... _Cute. And hot. What's she doing looking like that to go to the movies with her gay best friend?_ She was carrying something, he couldn't tell what.

The doorbell rang. "Can you answer that please?" Kurt called out. "I'm not quite ready yet."

Finn was already halfway to the door anyway. He swallowed nervously and opened it.

"Oh," Rachel said as she looked up at him, smiling, blushing a little. "Hello, Finn."

"Hi," Finn responded.

"Tell her I'll be five minutes, please," Kurt called out again.

Rachel laughed. "I can hear you too, Kurt," she called back. "And that's fine." She laughed again, Finn enjoying the sound of it. She had such a lovely voice.

Finn looked at her again, realizing that this was a setup, that Kurt disagreed with his mom's position on not having Rachel over and was managing to have it happen anyway. Still, Finn was starting to disagree with his mom on that too. "Why don't you come in?" he asked, smiling tentatively down at her, noticing that those were indeed cherries on her dress, including at the top where it fit tightly over the soft swell of her boobs. He caught himself looking more closely at those, especially since there was something tucked inside the top of her dress, hanging from a chain around her neck. He reddened a little, embarrassed to be looking there, as he turned away from the door to show her into the living room.

"I hope you're doing well, Finn." She handed him what she was carrying, a large plastic box with some sort of food in it. "Here," she said. "I made quite a lot, I like to bake when I get stressed."

"Well I like to eat when I get stressed, so I guess that works out," Finn joked lamely. "I'll, uh, be right back." _So she's stressed, huh?_ he thought, then castigated himself for his cluelessness. _Of course she's stressed__. Idiot. _He quickly put the box onto the kitchen counter, then returned to the living room. Rachel was sitting in one of the chairs, her knees crossed. With her short dress that meant he could see a long stretch of shapely tanned thigh. _Wow. If this is supposed to show me what I'm missing – message received._ He sat down on the couch next to the chair, not too close. "So..." he trailed off, unsure what to say. "What movie are you going to? Kurt didn't say."

"The Katy Perry concert movie," Rachel replied. "It's been out for a few weeks, but we were busy. The place across town has it now."

_Busy. Yeah, busy worrying about me._ "Are, you, uh, a big fan?" He smiled apologetically, since this was something he should know.

"It's certainly more appealing to me than most of the other current movies, and I need a night out," Rachel replied. "She seems nice. And I like a lot of her songs, so I'm looking forward to seeing how she performs them."

"Oh, that's right, you sing," Finn commented, then cringed as he heard himself. _Still – might as well let it out. _"Okay, hands down, that has got to be the stupidest thing I've ever said," he admitted, chuckling a little, shaking his head at himself. "Like ever. Even compared to things I don't remember saying."

That seemed to defuse things, and Rachel laughed. "Maybe. But that would be telling." She shrugged lightly. "It's okay, Finn."

"Maybe..." Finn took a deep breath. _Quinn said hearing her sing was special for me. Just go for it, stop stalling._ "Maybe I could hear you sing sometime and then I won't forget that again."

Rachel's breath caught, and he could see her eyes glisten. "I'd like that," she said quietly, then gave him a genuine smile.

Something moving on the wall distracted Finn – Kurt was standing at the foot of the stairs, his head lowered, and Finn could see his reflection in the TV screen on the wall. No idea how long he'd been there. Finn jerked his eyes away from the reflection and back to Rachel. He looked at her, doing his best to really see her, look into her deep brown eyes. He found himself returning her smile, and the tension between them eased.

They were silent, but unlike their previous meetings it wasn't an uncomfortable silence. After a few moments, though, it was broken by the sound of Carole's voice in the hall.

"Are you leaving now, Kurt?"

Rachel's head swung around to the hall where Kurt had been waiting.

"Ah, yes," Kurt said, approaching the living room entrance. "We'd better go if we don't want to miss the previews," he said to Rachel.

"Of course." Rachel stood and walked off, though she gave Finn a small shy smile as she passed him. "Goodnight, Finn."

"Uh, goodnight." Finn stumbled a little over his automatic response. Then the front door closed, and he heard the car drive off. After a few minutes he got up and went to the kitchen, where his mother was putting away the cleaned pots from dinner.

"I'm sorry you had to deal with that, Finn," she said. "I don't know what Kurt was thinking."

Finn stared out the kitchen window, looking off into the distance. "That I shouldn't stick my head in the sand?" he ventured. "He's right."

"Is he?" Carole was noncommittal, but watched him carefully.

Finn shrugged. "I can't hide forever." _And I'm not the only one who's life has a massive hole in it._ He went over to the counter, stalling, and opened the plastic container Rachel had given him. "Hey, this smells good."

"Rachel knows what you like."

Finn picked up a piece and smelled it more closely – banana bread. He smiled and bit into it. "Well this is really great," he mumbled around it. He swallowed. "Mom... do you like Rachel?" He saw her look at him, puzzled. "In the hospital you were saying all those great things about her, but now it's like you don't want her anywhere near me. Do you have a problem with her?"

Carole exhaled. "I like Rachel a lot, Finn. She can be very intense, but she's really a sweetheart, and we've always gotten along wonderfully."

"So what's going on? Is it me?"

"You need space, time to get used to everything that's changed at home," Carole explained. "And as I said, she's very intense. You did ask her for some time."

Finn frowned. "I know I did. But I can't just run away, or I shouldn't. She's not just some girl, she's supposed to be part of my life. And she's Kurt's friend, and just..." he trailed off, trying to make sense of his thoughts. "I know this is so difficult for her and it's like I'm keeping her away from her best friend too. I don't mean to."

"Her best friend?"

"Kurt. I mean, he told me she's his best friend."

"These things aren't always reciprocal. He's a close confidant, of course, but he isn't her best friend." Carole frowned, looking sorrowful.

"Well that's a relief, then she has someone else too," Finn said, but was caught up short when he saw his mother's sad eyes as she shook her head. "What?" he asked, confused, then groaned as the realization came. "_Shit._ Sorry, didn't mean to swear. It's just -" he shook his head. "I wasn't expecting that."

Carole smiled sadly. "Even at times when you weren't together you were still very good friends, usually," she said. "You've both helped each other when you needed it."

"Like what Quinn told me about her," Finn mused. "Except Rachel needs me now, and I'm not there." She'd smiled at him so brightly, acting like she was okay, but he knew she wasn't. Even without having overheard what Kurt had said, that this was killing her, he knew. She'd done her best to act okay so he wouldn't be uncomfortable, and so he'd actually be willing to spend time with her, even after how he'd treated her. She shouldn't have to go through that for him.

"Quinn? I didn't realize you'd been talking to her," Carole said, giving her son a bit of a hard look. "Do you know what she did?"

"Cheated on me with Puck and convinced me the kid was mine? Yes, she told me."

"Well that's honest of her. Maybe she has changed." But Carole's voice was still sharp.

Finn looked seriously at his mother. "She also told me you haven't forgiven her for that."

"Can't say that I have," she admitted. "You did. But there are lines you don't cross with a mother, and screwing up her kid's life for the sake of your own is way over it."

"I remember you liking Quinn, before."

"I didn't really see that much of her when you first went out, not until the pregnancy mess hit," Carole said. "Certainly it was flattering, an achievement that my boy was dating Quinn Fabray, she's so pretty and popular, her family was so highly thought of. Very high status. But she never tried to relate to us, as people, and it all turned out to be hollow. We were just something she needed to use. And then getting to know Rachel – well her family is rather quirky, and they're well-off and spoil her a lot, but she's very genuine, the opposite of Quinn in the ways that matter." She shrugged. "I wish Quinn all the best, really I do. I hope she has a good life and finds happiness, but preferably with someone I don't know. I can't trust her."

"What would you have done if she was the one I was engaged to?" Finn asked curiously. Quinn was, after all, the only girl he remembered thinking that he might marry someday, even though it had been just idle thoughts.

"Lock you in your room until you came to your senses?" Carole speculated. "I'm very glad you didn't. It was hard enough it being a girl I liked and knew was good for you. You're so young. It's still hard to believe that your relationship really became that serious."

"Yeah," Finn said thoughtfully. "I wonder what I was thinking, proposing," he mused. Quinn had told him that even Rachel hadn't been expecting it, so it must have meant a lot to him to do it.

"You never told me. Certainly you didn't have to in order to go to New York with her, especially with Kurt going too."

"I wish I could remember." Her ring – her hand had been bare, he had noticed. She'd probably done that for his sake, he'd recoiled so sharply from it when he'd seen it last, he'd seen it as her expecting him still to marry her. But though she hadn't had the ring on her hand, she'd had something on that chain around her neck. She would be coming back with Kurt after the movie, right? Maybe he could see it then, not like before but really look at it, try to see if it might trigger something. Trying was a problem, the shrink had said, but triggers, coming across things that could unlock memories, were good. This might be tricky. But he owed it to her to give it a shot, and at the very least he needed to get used to the ring and what it represented.

But it was late when he heard the car drive up , and once Kurt came inside the car drove off.


	13. a vague sensation quickens

In the morning, Finn awoke still conflicted. Yesterday had been a lot to take in. He'd liked talking to Rachel, sure, and he was glad he'd made the effort to get past the terror he'd felt at their engagement. But it was still so different from the life he'd known, and his mom was right that she was intense. Rachel was unsettling, though from what Quinn had told him that could be the good kind of unsettling (try more, do more, better than anything you could have dreamed) instead of the bad kind of unsettling (run away, this is going to get ugly).

But his biggest fear about her was still there, that she wanted something from him that he couldn't give, wanted him to be someone he wasn't any more. And that idea (that he was broken) was more unsettling than anything.

He didn't want to be broken. But if he was, it was better that he fix himself than that he keep pretending he wasn't. He needed to remember, if he could.

_I should go see Rachel_, Finn thought. _Now, before I chicken out. Where does she live? _He went to the hall phone and took out the phone book, but while there was a number for them, the only Berry listed in the residential listing, there wasn't an address._ I suppose I could call. And she might not be in if I don't check first. But it'd be easier if I just go see her, no anticipation, I don't want to wind her up or worry about what she's expecting._ He could ask Kurt, he supposed, but he really didn't want to have to discuss what he was planning to do with Kurt, especially since he really didn't know himself. But then he mentally winced, and went to dig out his cell phone. _Idiot, I wouldn't have had her address three years ago but I would have now._ And there in his phone book, sure enough, was the information for Rachel Berry, complete with her birthday (December 18) and a cute picture of her wearing a blue plaid shirt that looked like it was once his. And her phone numbers and address, of course. 241 Birch Hill... _shit._ He sank down, burying his forehead into his hand. _That's where I was going when I went for that drive_, he realized._ I was almost there, but I didn't recognize it and decided to go see Quinn instead. Damn, damn, __**damn**__._ He groaned. _Oh well_, he tried to console himself, _this means I remembered something, right? Even if I didn't know it and it was all automatic. That's still good, that I could do that, that where I automatically went on my first trip out was to see her. _He tried not to think of the time he'd wasted because of the decision he'd made that Sunday.

On his way over, Finn tried to decide what to do when he got there. He knew he'd treated Rachel badly. At the same time, they'd actually been able to talk a little last night, relax a bit, and he didn't want to lose that hard-won ease by going through some sort of big apology, no matter how much she deserved it. The shrink had been very clear that tension would get in the way of regaining access to his memories. As well, he really wasn't sure what he could offer her at this point – while he was very sorry he'd pushed her away so much, he couldn't promise that he could be anything specific to her. He still wasn't the man she remembered and didn't know how he could be. He really needed this to work, for her and her ring and anything else about her to start bringing his memory back and his feelings for her. Then he'd be able to give her everything, assuming that all he'd been told about their relationship was true.

Arriving on Birch Hill, he looked for 241, and found it just a few houses down from where he'd broken off the previous time. It was a good sign that he'd gone there without remembering, before, it meant that somewhere subconsciously he remembered going there and had made it a priority. He parked outside the house. No, it didn't look familiar at all.

Finn took a deep breath and walked up to the house. Hopefully she was in. He rang the doorbell, and a few moments later the door opened to reveal Rachel. She looked like she'd been working out, wearing a loose shirt and yoga pants, her hair tied back.

"Oh. Hello, Finn." She was startled to see him, as well she might be, but still smiled shyly as she brushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

"Hi." He smiled back briefly. "How -" _How are you. Dumb question, I'm sick of it and I bet she is too. _Finn started again."How was the movie? I would have asked you last night but you didn't stop in when you dropped Kurt off."

Rachel blinked. This obviously wasn't what she was expecting, nobody shows up at your door to abruptly ask for a movie review. And he was quite sure it wasn't his kind of movie and she would know that. "It was very late," she excused herself. Her expression flickered. "You... you wanted me to?" Her voice was soft, emotional, a mix of confusion and pain and hope.

"Yeah."

"Oh." Her reaction was barely a whisper. Finn saw tears in her eyes again, but maybe they were there for a good reason this time. He shuffled his feet awkwardly.

"Yeah, I should have before. I'm sorry I didn't." He lowered his eyes to look at her left hand, finding it bare but still showing an imprint on her finger where her ring had been. He looked up at her neck for the chain, but it wasn't there either, and he frowned. Previously he'd wondered why she was still wearing it, and now he wondered why she wasn't. Maybe because she'd been exercising.

"What is it?" she asked hesitantly.

"Your, um, engagement ring?" he asked, a little stupidly.

"What about it?" Her responding question was tense.

"I'd just... I'd like to see it. Properly, I mean, I don't think I really looked at it before."

"It's upstairs, in my jewelry box." She paused. "You can come up, if you like." She led Finn upstairs to her room.

Finn looked around at the bedroom that he supposed should be so familiar to him. It looked like her, he thought, then clenched internally as he saw the framed picture labeled '2012 National Champions'. It showed the whole club, but there they were, front and center, with their arms around each other, Rachel leaning into him and his head resting on hers. Another picture of the man he didn't remember being... he quickly shoved down his rising panic at seeing his face on that other guy. That guy looked so happy, happier than he could remember, ever. Yes, he wanted that if he could get it.

Rachel, meanwhile, had taken out the chain with her engagement ring on it and put it around her neck, quickly loosening her hair as she did so. "Here it is." She held the ring in her palm, protectively, and flinched a little when he reached out to touch it.

"Don't worry, I'm not trying to take it back," Finn said. He felt her relax a little, and knew he'd been right about her fear. "I just wanted to see it again, see if it'll help me remember something." He looked at the ring. It was pretty, small but distinctive, probably a lot like the girl that other him had given it to. He must have picked it out really carefully but he couldn't remember any of it. He'd probably looked at it a lot, too, thinking about her before he'd proposed, but he didn't feel anything seeing it. At least not panic, any more. "Can you put it on? On your finger, I mean?" There must have been a moment, when she'd said 'yes' and he'd put the ring on her, when he would have been so happy that she'd agreed to be his. And afterwards, he would have looked at it and thought about what it meant to them. Maybe if he saw it like that...

Rachel unhooked the chain, and started to slide the ring off. She hesitated.

"I know this must be so hard for you," he said. "But if it could help..."

She nodded wordlessly and put it on her left ring finger, then slowly extended her hand to him. Finn took her hand and held it up to see it, rubbing his thumb over the ring, impulsively pressing a light kiss to the back of her hand. He must have done this before too, but – nothing. Nothing he remembered, anyway. He felt her tremble at the touch. He looked down into her wide brown eyes, noticing them glistening with unshed tears. This would be bringing back memories for her, even though it wasn't for him. He let her hand fall. "I'm sorry," he mumbled. "I just don't..."

"Maybe -" Rachel's voice caught, and she tried to compose herself. "Maybe we need to go back further," she said. "Earlier, since you've forgotten everything recent."

"Start over?" Finn thought about what Quinn had said, that him falling for Rachel had been so soon after the latest he could remember. And that was when she'd fallen for him too... maybe that was all she wanted, him, not necessarily her fiancé with all their history but him as he could be now. Could he try that? Recapture that, or remember that? It was closer to who he was now, certainly, the next memory in his broken sequence.

"In a way, yes."

Finn was suddenly conscious of how fast his heart was beating. Maybe it was just being so close to a girl, but he hadn't felt like this with Quinn. His mouth felt dry, and he unconsciously licked his lips and stepped a little closer to Rachel. He could feel himself harden as his heart hammered in his ears. God she was beautiful. Exotic, but natural. And her skin was flushed, her lips gently parted.

She looked up at him and put her hand lightly on his chest. "You know you can kiss me if you want to," she whispered, lightly trembling again.

"I want to." And Finn stooped to kiss her, Rachel rising on her toes to meet him.

Finn brushed her lips with his, feeling a shudder go through him at the intimate contact. Instinct took over, and he pressed harder, reveling in the soft supple feel of her mouth. He ran his tongue over her lips and was rewarded by them parting for him as the kiss deepened. A moment later his mouth was at her neck, tongue and lips worrying a spot below her ear that made Rachel moan.

"Finn... oh Finn." His name was wrenched from Rachel, and her knees went weak. She clung tightly to him, and he lifted her up to her bed, following her soon after as she lay back. Their tongues twined again as their bodies started to move together, automatically finding a rhythm, Finn grinding against her through their clothes. He pulled at Rachel's shirt, lifting it up, snaking a hand up beneath it to start massaging her breast.

"Oh yes, Finn," Rachel breathed, her hands stroking down his back. "I love you."

"I -" _What am I __**doing**__?_ His brain alert again, Finn broke off and sat up suddenly. He stared off at her wall, then looked back at the girl on the bed, seeing her swollen lips, her disarrayed clothes, her mussed hair.

"I'm sorry, I can't do this," he blurted. He stood. "I'm not him, I – I know I look like him and sound like him, but I'm not him, not now, and I can't do this to you." He walked to her bedroom door, then took a last look behind him, where a stunned Rachel was starting to cry. "I'm so sorry, I just – I got carried away. I'd better go." With that he went downstairs, blood still pounding in his ears, guilt twisting inside him. He heard her call out for him to wait, but he didn't see how he could, not with the agonized way she called his name, wanting the man he wasn't.

* * *

Finn drove quickly home, full of guilt, his mind racing. _How could I have done that? I was trying to stop hurting her and now I've made it worse. Used her, even._

He took his afternoon shift at the tire shop in silence, doublechecking all his work because he just couldn't concentrate. He'd hurt her when he'd pushed her away, then he'd gotten too close and hurt her again. He couldn't seem to control himself around her. But he had to, he had to stop hurting her. She was strong – she'd somehow managed not to break yet from all this, and he hoped she hadn't now – but he had to be strong too, even if he didn't know how.

Dinner with his family was awkward, though none of the others knew why Finn was so silent. He briefly considered trying to get Kurt to check on Rachel, but he wasn't sure how to put it, and if she wanted to be alone he should let her. And that night as he started writing in his log, a habit the shrink insisted on, he couldn't even formulate it into words. He'd certainly felt something. A lot. It had been off the freaking charts, how much he'd wanted her right then, so much more than anything he remembered ever feeling. But he hadn't had any flashbacks like he'd been hoping for. Kissing Rachel had been amazing but he didn't remember doing it before.

That night Finn dreamed, of what had happened and what might have happened if he'd kept going, the seductive taste of her mouth, the feel of her body under him and around him, taut, pliant, warm and yielding. And he awoke in a mess caused by his first wet dream since he'd been about fourteen (as far as he knew), feeling more guilty than ever, like he'd really used her by dreaming about her like that.

* * *

Mid-morning the doorbell rang. Finn answered it, and froze in panic as he saw Rachel standing there.

"May I talk to you, please?" she asked hesitantly. "It won't take long."

"Sure." Finn stood aside to let her pass, then closed the door. He swallowed. "I want to apologize again, for what I did yesterday," he said. "I had no right to take advantage of you like that and play on your feelings."

"You kind of do," Rachel said. She gestured to her throat, where she wore the silver chain, the ring hanging out of sight beneath her dress.

"No, I don't, I just hurt you more," he insisted. "I shouldn't do things I can't follow through on, and – and I shouldn't let you think I remember things that I don't. I didn't mean to."

Rachel's eyes swam with tears, but she held them back. "I think you remember more than you know." She bit her lower lip, determination growing on her face. "But I didn't come here for another apology, or to try to get you to kiss me again, much as I'd like it, the latter I mean. I came to tell you something, something private."

"Uh, okay," Finn said, though he had no idea where she was going with that. "We're alone, if that matters."

"It does. I don't want anyone else to know this." Her hands twined tightly together.

"I won't tell. I promise."

"How chivalrous."

"Uh, thanks. I try. Guess I wasn't so good at it yesterday."

Rachel closed her eyes momentarily, her face set. She stood a couple of feet in front of Finn, apparently wanting to be close but not too close. "There's a spot on my neck," she said, looking at him again. "I'm not going to tell you where. But there's this place, where you used to kiss me, that drives me completely crazy," she explained, blushing a little. Finn was puzzled and rather uncomfortable. He didn't know why she would tell him something like this.

"And there's this thing you used to do to it, that just makes me melt entirely," she continued. "And when we were together, before the accident, it took you a while to find that exact spot, I didn't even know about it, and you experimented quite a bit with it to fine-tune what you do. It's 'your spot', you're very proprietary about it."

Rachel took a deep breath and looked Finn square in the face, her eyes flashing passionately. "And yesterday you went straight for it like it was a magnet." Finn looked back at her, agape. "So you can tell me all you want that you don't remember, that my Finn isn't there," she went on, her voice full of emotion. "_I know he's there._ He's the only one that knows how to do that to me." She stopped, breathing hard, and clenched her hands at her sides. "And I'm going to leave now." She turned and let herself out, closing the door behind her, leaving a stunned Finn in her wake.

That night Finn dreamed again, the same dream of what might have happened if he hadn't stopped, of feeling Rachel's small firm body beneath him, wrapped around him, her soft lips against his. But when he woke up and winced at his obvious need to do even more laundry, he had to wonder: had he been dreaming or remembering? Or both? The details of the dream faded on waking, as dreams do, but he was still left with the same overall feeling that he'd had when he kissed her. Even not remembering her, there was definitely something there. And the way she'd looked at him when she'd told him what he'd done, how he'd touched her and what it had meant – _**fire**_.


	14. it slips between your hands like water

The next morning Finn was haunted by his dreams, of how they'd felt but also how tenuous they had been. Sure, his dreams usually disappeared when he woke up anyway, but if these were more than just dreams, if they were partly old memories like he'd been hoping, shouldn't they stick around more? He tried to grab onto the last wisp of his dream, that feeling of Rachel with him, but it was slipping away, and he still had no memory of having done it before.

Finn shunted that concern aside. He was making new memories just fine, so what about the actual things he'd done at Rachel's, two days ago? She'd been so clear that some of it had been something that only he, the Finn who knew her, could do. Could he remember doing that, maybe use it to get a bridge to doing it before?

He started in on the memory exploration exercise that the shrink had given him at their last meeting. _Remember being there,_ he told himself. And he saw Rachel's room, saw her in front of him, so close and vulnerable and beautiful, looking up at him with love and hope. He'd definitely felt a lot just being close to her, a powerful attraction. _Okay, I have that,_ he said to himself. _Did it feel new or like I'd been with her before?_ He didn't know. That attraction, much stronger than anything he'd ever felt, that could have been new. Renewed, anyway, not something that was triggering any memories. Moving closer, anticipating that first kiss... not like he'd done it before. A first kiss was special. And that kiss had definitely been extra special, electricity, _discovering_ how incredibly good her mouth felt and tasted and how right it felt to kiss her. Maybe he'd just always been attracted to her like that, he had been wondering why he'd gotten together with her and that could be why. Of course _she_ hadn't forgotten how to kiss _him_, though she'd let him lead and it hadn't felt experienced. Just really awesome.

And then... _huh_. Hazy to nothing, like it all faded out when he'd lost himself in the moment. Literally lost himself, apparently. She'd told him about that thing he'd done, kissing her neck – but he didn't remember that really, even though the first part of the kiss was so vivid. He'd been there but not really present, and all he had were vague impressions. Next thing he really knew was coming back to his senses and feeling her body beneath his on her bed. And that special place on her neck, he didn't know where that was even now.

So was he remembering when he'd done that? Or was it autopilot, just more obviously than other times he'd done something automatically? He supposed it was good that it confirmed that the memories were still there. The scans had suggested some were, but what he'd done (or what his subconscious, or his instinct had done) confirmed that those boarded-off memories included Rachel. Included being with Rachel, kissing her, and presumably also loving her.

So if he could just get them back... but he didn't seem any closer to being able to access them properly, assimilate them back into _himself_, than he was before.

He groaned and turned over, then caught sight of his clock. He was doing an early shift that day and getting a ride into the shop with Burt, so he'd better get moving.

* * *

Mid-morning he felt like someone was watching him again, but tried to shrug it off. A moment later his co-worker Warren tapped him on his shoulder, and nodded towards the entry.

Finn turned, and was slightly relieved to see that it was Rachel. He walked slowly over to her, and she met him just inside the door.

"Hi," he said quietly, reddening a little as he found himself looking at her lips.

"Hi." She blushed a little too. "I hope you don't mind, Kurt told me you were here this morning."

Mind what? That she'd come, or that they obviously kept tabs on him? He supposed it didn't matter. "No, that's okay, I guess you have to find out how I'm doing somehow." _That kinda covers both._ He swallowed. "I've been thinking about what you told me," he admitted.

She looked hopeful. "And?"

"And?" _Oh._ "And nothing, I guess. Just thought you should know, I've been thinking about it. What it might mean."

"Oh." She showed a flicker of disappointment, but covered it quickly with a smile.

"I don't remember doing it."

"Well, no, I didn't expect you would, yet."

"No... I don't just mean from before. I don't even really remember doing it the other day." He saw her eyes widen. He moved closer to her, steering her into a corner so they could talk in confidence. "I remember being with you, in your room, and kissing you -" he blushed. "And, uh, it was really great and I've been thinking about that too -" he saw her smile return at that, genuinely happy. "But then it's basically nothing, really hazy. That thing you described, I don't remember doing it _at all_."

"_Oh._" She pressed her lips together. "So that was all subconscious?"

"Yeah. Automatic. Instinctive, I guess."

"What do you remember next?"

"Well, uh... I could feel a bit of what I was doing, fragments, hazy, not like I was in control of it at all, and then, uh... I was... um, with you, and uh..."

Finn was stumbling over his words, cringing at even trying to have this type of discussion with someone who was almost a total stranger as far as he was concerned. And somewhere deep down there was likely a part of him that just wanted to pull her into the break room and make out. Which would probably be really incredible, that kiss... Finn pulled himself sharply from the fantasy. He didn't know her well enough, he couldn't just use her. And he certainly couldn't trust himself to try something like that, if his instincts took over he might do almost anything, and then he wouldn't even be able to enjoy it or remember it properly. Or stop himself if he went too far.

"Just before you pulled away," she stated.

"Yeah." He frowned, his face tight.

"It scares you," Rachel said softly. "That you're doing things you don't understand." He stared at her, thrown by her knowing this. "No, I can't read your mind," she explained. "Just your face."

"I wish you could read my mind, at least then somebody could," he joked ruefully. "I wish _I_ could read my mind."

"At least we know it's there." Rachel gave him a small hopeful smile.

"Yeah." _It's just really hard to deal with there being more than one part of me._ He exhaled. "I don't know what to do," he admitted. "About you, about anything."

"That's okay."

"No, it's not," Finn insisted. "I can't just go on instinct, my instinct is out of control, obviously. But it's not okay that I don't know what to do about you, I don't want to hurt you and I seem to keep doing that."

Rachel gave a small pout. "Then it's not okay. But it's what we have to deal with." Her eyes flickered down, then back up at him. "I know it's hard for you, to talk to me and open up to me, when you don't really know me. But please don't hide what you're going through from me, or pull away because you're confused or afraid that you'll hurt me. We're in this situation together, even if it doesn't seem that way to you." She swallowed. "I don't know what to do either. And it's not okay with me that I don't know how to help you. I hope we can figure it out together."

Finn nodded, not really sure what to say to that, but mostly understanding what she was saying. He couldn't entirely stop hurting her, the whole situation hurt her. She would be hurt as long as he was. "Okay," he said finally. "I get it, I think. I'll try, anyway."

"That's all we can do."

"Yeah." He looked down into her face again, once more feeling the effects of her being so close, wondering if kissing her again would feel as good as the first kiss had. But he couldn't trust himself. He swallowed. "I, uh, should get back to work," he said.

"Okay. I'll see you soon, I hope."

"Yeah. Soon." And he meant it.

* * *

In the late afternoon Puck showed up at the shop and offered him a ride.

"Let's just relax," Puck said as he drove, and a few moments later they pulled up at the school. There were some cars already there, and Mike and a few others from the football team were on the field nearby. "You've had a lot of drama going on, let's work off some steam. We thought you might like to pass the ball around and run some plays. Get your head out of all that girl and family stuff. I'm sure you still know how to throw a football."

"Sure." Finn grinned, getting out of the car and walking with Puck to the field. "Just like old times." He paused. "You're not going to call your quarterback _'kid'_, are you?" he asked Puck pointedly.

Puck grinned back. "Depends. Are you going to play like you're fifteen?"

Finn grimaced. "Hard to know, but I hope not. Point taken, anyway." He met his friend's eyes with a meaningful look and nod, acknowledging that they were talking about a lot more than just football.

"Good. Because it's been a long time since I played with a fifteen-year-old."

Finn smirked. Puck was leaving himself wide open to this. "That's not what I heard," he commented.

Puck rolled his eyes at Finn's zinger and thwacked him on the arm. "Not even. These days that's jailbait, Hudson." He jerked his head towards the field. "Come on, let's see what you've got."

This was just a pick-up game without proper gear, so they took it easy. But Finn found himself loosening up, enjoying having the ball in his hands again, and definitely enjoying calling the plays and successfully executing them. Being quarterback meant you were in charge, and it was a power Finn had been feeling he'd lost; he felt that familiar combination of tension and ease return, and it made him happy.

After a while it was getting into early evening, and many of them had other things to do.

"One last play. Let's try a 20 left twist," Finn called out. The others formed up, he took the ball, faded right, faked the handoff to a right-moving player, then moved left and passed long to Puck, who had moved in a zigzag pattern downfield. Puck caught it in triumph and ran to the endzone, spiking the ball with a celebratory yell that was echoed by the other players.

They came back together at midfield for high-fives. Mike, though, stared at Finn. "Finn – that's a Beiste play," he said.

"Crazy monster," Finn replied, grinning.

"Not beast. Beiste. Coach Beiste. She's only been our coach for the last two years, you don't even remember her," Mike insisted. Finn looked back, stunned, starting to understand the importance of Mike's words. "But you just called and ran one of her trick plays."

Puck, too, looked at Finn in shock, as did some of the others. "He's right, dude," Puck said, tapping Finn on the arm with the ball. "We learned that play late last summer, right after she invented it. And it's a tricky one all right, you have to know exactly where I'm going to be even when I'm not going the right way. If you didn't know it, you'd never have pulled that off."

"Wow." They had reached the bleachers, and Finn sank down on the nearest one. Several of the others called out their goodbyes and left.

"You're getting your memory back, man," Mike said.

"I don't know – I mean I threw the play, but I don't know how I knew it," Finn blurted out. "I don't remember learning it, or really what it is."

"You don't remember Beiste riding my ass about it until I got the timing right?" Puck asked. "'Cause you sure seemed to enjoy it at the time. Took me a while to get the movement right so I'd be just where you were going to put the ball, and I had to do a lot of pushups every time I screwed up."

"No, I don't," Finn admitted.

Puck hit the dirt and started doing pushups. "Anything coming back to you now?" he called out.

"Well I'm pretty sure I've seen you do pushups before," Finn said wryly. "Other than that, no."

Puck jumped back to his feet. "Well don't sweat it, dude," he said. "Just relax. Things are starting to come back, you don't need to push it."

_Yeah_, Finn thought. But despite his elation at definitely having recalled something, he was dissatisfied that it was still just subconscious. He'd accessed the memory and made use of it but he couldn't consciously remember it. Like gaming, and driving, and some of the stuff at work, and _kissing Rachel_... he could do things instinctively but didn't know how he could do them or remember doing them before.

"Let's run it again," he said. He needed to make this something he could do deliberately, really remember. Or at least do it when he wanted to.

But when the remaining players set off from the line, he only sort-of did the fake, and when it came to the pass – incomplete, nowhere near where Puck was. _Try again, relax into it._ He got the ball again, tried to relax, tried to let it all flow. And when they started moving again, he still had no clue where to throw, and eventually just spiked the ball hard in frustration.

He wasn't remembering. He could just do stuff, maybe, but he couldn't control it or think about it. Just like with Rachel. He hunched over, his head down, jaw set in anger at himself. Why couldn't he remember?

"Hey." Mike came over and leaned down to him. "You okay?" He caught Finn's pained look. "Right, sorry, dumb question. But don't worry about it so much. Everyone has things they can only do if they don't think about it. At least you could do it the first time, that's something, right?"

_Right. Maybe._ It was just so much less than what Finn needed.

The other players dispersed, leaving Finn with just Puck and Mike.

Mike checked his watch and frowned. "Need me to stick around?" he asked, more to Puck than to Finn.

Finn shook his head dumbly, and Puck motioned to Mike that he could go.

"Okay then. But you know I'm here, Finn. If you need me, and even if you don't. Okay?"

Finn nodded, choking back the tears that threatened. "Yeah, sure. Thanks Mike."

"No problem." With that, Mike jogged back to his car.

After a moment, Finn straightened up and wiped his eyes. "Still seem to cry like I'm fifteen," he commented to Puck, trying to make light of it. _Or ten._

"Actually you never quite grew out of that. And what you're going through really sucks, so don't beat yourself up about getting all emotional." Puck clapped him on the shoulder. "Come on, let's head home. You must be starving, and I sure am."

Finn followed Puck back to the car, and Puck started driving him back to his place.

"Sorry for losing it back there," Finn said eventually. "I get so frustrated, it's like everything's just out of reach."

"But you're remembering some stuff, right?" Puck asked.

"That's just it," Finn answered slowly. "I don't know if I am. I'm not really remembering, not to think about anything, there's just stuff I can do. But it doesn't feel like me doing it, I can't do it if I'm paying attention at all, I can't even seem to trigger it much. And I had stuff like that already, gaming, driving, basically ever since I woke up there have been things I was just doing, extensions to stuff I could do automatically before. I just notice it more now, it's different stuff. More obvious."

"But that play -"

"It's the first time I played football since I woke up. And, uh, other stuff..." he trailed off.

"'Other stuff'?" Puck asked quizzically.

"Yeah, uh..." Finn frowned, staring at the dashboard. "It's, um..." he took a deep breath. "Rachel."

Puck pulled over suddenly, put the car into park, then looked intently over at Finn. "You were doing something with _Rachel_."

"Yeah," Finn said softly. "Um, not much, not once I realized I was, just... oh hell." _She didn't want me to tell anyone about this, it was private. Or maybe she just meant the details 'cause it was special. And I'm not going to tell Puck that I basically jumped her._

"You are engaged, you know," Puck reminded him. "She's the one you're supposed to be doing stuff with."

"And I don't really know her. But I kissed her -"

"About time."

Finn rolled his eyes. "Yeah I guess so. It was totally amazing, so I get that."

"Doesn't sound like a problem to me."

"Yeah, well, then I got into it. And there's something I did, she swore me to secrecy about what and I don't really remember anyway, just how she described it later, but there's something about how I did it that's just me. Special. But I don't remember doing it, I don't know how, it was just autopilot like running that play."

"Still not seeing the problem."

"I don't know what the hell I'm doing, that's the problem. It's like that other part of me just steps in and takes over and does whatever it feels like. I can't turn it on and off, I can't control it, and I _don't know what I'm doing._ Or saying. I called that play and I don't even know what I said to call it." Finn huffed in frustration. "I feel like I was a zombie."

"A zombie that can play football pretty well." Puck pulled back out into the road, resuming their drive.

"_Not helping._"

"Sorry, hard not to be a smartass. But go easy on yourself," Puck said. "It's all still really new, it hasn't been that long yet."

"I guess." _But I can't get things done like this – and how am I supposed to get to know Rachel or try to trigger memories if stuff like that happens?_

Puck fiddled with his car stereo. "You need something to take your mind off it."

"Sure," Finn said, exhaling, trying to calm himself back down. "Music would be good. As long as it's not something I'm supposed to know but don't."

"This is new, it's been out for just over a month and you hadn't had a chance to listen to it yet, you told me so, uh, just before. New Rush album."

"Oh, hey." Finn had seen it on his iPod but hadn't had a chance to listen to it, so yeah, this would be new.

"This track has a great bass line – even by their standards – I'm thinking about working on it. And check out the drums. We'd go great together on this if we gave it a shot." Puck gave a feral grin. "It's called 'The Anarchist'."

Finn smirked. "_Sure _you're interested in the bass line," he said with a touch of sarcasm.

"Hey, listen. You _will_ like these drums." Puck hit 'Play', and the music kicked in, first the drums, then the lead guitar, finally the bass.

And yeah, Finn could sink into the music, the driving bass line and the drums. And the drums were great, probably way more intricate than he'd ever do, but he could get into them anyway. He started feeling the piece, anticipating the progression and airdrumming the basics along, relaxing as he felt out the new song in the same way he'd done for years with new material. He was probably better at doing that now but at least it didn't feel alien, and he was in control. And this was a brand new song that he'd never heard before at all so he knew this was all him, now, consciously doing it. He started feeling more alive, more himself, even laughing when his predicted drumbeats screwed up.

He settled into it further as the song segued into what should be the chorus. But then suddenly a lyric line registered clearly: (*)

_a missing part of me that grows around me like a cage_

Finn froze. It was too close to how he felt, what he was trying not to think about.

Puck noticed his shock and heard the line as it repeated. He slammed his hand against the stereo knob to turn it off. "_Shit._ I am really fucking sorry, dude, I didn't think," he blurted out. He drove on in silence for a couple of minutes, finally pulling up at the Hudson-Hummel house. He turned to Finn, looking intently at him.

"Guess I'm oh-for-two on distractions, huh," Puck said ruefully.

Finn shrugged, still staring at the dashboard. "Everything's a minefield, Puck, don't sweat it." He looked over at his friend, starting to unclench a little. "They were great, really, until. Beats obsessing over it all the time." He exhaled. "And I have to deal with this stuff one way or another anyway. However I can."

"Up for anything more tonight?" Puck asked.

"Think I'll drum for a bit, actually. Good idea, really. Thanks. And for the ride. See you tomorrow."

Back in the house, Finn went to the kitchen to scrounge some food. He found a plate set aside with leftovers; of course they'd known he would be late and hungry. His stomach unknotted enough for him to eat, and then he headed up to his room to drum. He should probably let his mom or someone know he was home, but he didn't really want to talk to anyone right now, so he figured they'd know as soon as he started playing.

But before heading to his kit, Finn went to his computer and quickly put together a new playlist: every rock instrumental he had, plus some songs that had nothing to do with women, relationships, or life (which didn't leave much, though "Juke Box Hero" and "Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap" still made the cut). Feeling slightly sardonic he threw in "Crazy Train", hoping that maybe he'd be able to handle his situation a little better if he could laugh about it.

Satisfied that he had a set that wouldn't blindside him, he sat down at his kit, warmed up, and started to play with the music. And eventually he eased again, finding comfort in the familiar movements and sounds, enjoying the feel of executing something that he'd practiced so often, largely automatic but not completely, still consciously alterable. And he felt present, his attention on his drumming, his mind otherwise quiet as the rhythm flowed through him. As with playing quarterback, drumming meant he was in charge, setting the rhythm. Of course when he practiced this was an illusion as he played with recorded music, but he could still add fills and accents as he wanted. He added counter-rhythms to the existing drums on one track, just to see how it would sound and prove to himself that he could.

Temporarily he felt whole, even though he knew that was an illusion as well.

But when he went to sleep that line burned in his mind again, reinforcing how trapped he felt by his inaccessible memories: (*)

_a missing part of me that grows around me like a cage_

Though hearing it put into words did make him feel a little less alone.

* * *

_* "The Anarchist", performed by Rush, lyrics by Neil Peart._


	15. the secret wells of emotion

_A/N: back to a slightly faster update schedule, I hope! Chapter 14 had to be rewritten a lot, while this one and the next few are in pretty good shape already. Much thanks for all the reviews, and it's good to see a few new people coming aboard recently. Welcome to the inner angst-fest that is PRR; please let me know what you think._  
_Once I start writing Puck I have a hard time stopping. Strangely the showrunners don't have this reaction._

* * *

That night as she tried to go to sleep, Rachel thought about her brief talk with Finn, and sighed.

She had so hoped that he was starting to remember. And maybe he was, those memories locked in his subconscious starting to fight free; she'd known his touch, the feel of Finn with her, and those had definitely been the experienced hands of her lover, not the awkward fumblings of a much younger Finn. She'd been so disappointed when he'd pulled away, and even more disappointed when he'd told her he didn't remember doing it at all, even then. That it was just automatic and he hadn't consciously been present for it.

Still, the kiss hadn't been like that, and he'd obviously enjoyed it and had been thinking about it. She'd known that even before his confession, the way he'd been looking at her lips had told her he'd been thinking about their kiss and wanting more. And stopping himself from going for more, unfortunately. But he'd eased enough around her to tell her and to let himself be vulnerable around her, and she'd take her victories where she could. Just a few days ago she would have been over the moon that Finn was thinking about kissing her. She knew it didn't mean he was remembering, their kisses had always been special, from the very first, but even if he wasn't remembering her, he was feeling something, maybe some of their connection. And wanting to kiss her again, and seemingly wanting to get to know her.

All excellent progress, and so much better than how things had been a few days ago.

But as she'd admitted, she didn't know what to do now either, and it was so hard to not be able to help him.

And she was leaving. In just fourteen days.

Rachel sighed again and hugged her pillow tightly.

* * *

Puck showed up at breakfast at the Hudson-Hummel place with his usual impeccable timing, just as the bacon was coming out of the pan.

"Thanks, Mrs. H," he said to Carole as he grabbed a few slices, before she could divide the rest among her family. Finn rolled his eyes.

"You graduated high school and you still can't get your own bacon?" Finn complained.

"My mom doesn't want me to be a bad influence," Puck explained, his mouth full. Finn burst out laughing and kept at it for several moments, finding it completely ludicrous that Puck's taste for bacon was what Mrs. Puckerman had a problem with when there were so many other things Puck did for her to worry about. "Yeah, real funny," Puck commented wryly, stealing more bacon from Finn. Burt and Carole, seeing the boys' antics, decided to move their own quiet breakfast to the dining room.

"Hey." Finn held his fork out to defend his remaining breakfast. "Hands off."

"You know better than to get between Finn and food," Kurt commented to Puck. "Ever."

Puck laughed. "Yeah, I know, it's just fun to yank his chain. And it keeps my reflexes sharp."

"I hate to think what you're keeping your reflexes sharp for," Kurt retorted with a smile. Finn kept eating rapidly, partly to save his food from Puck, partly because he figured Puck was here to do something with him, but mostly simply because he was hungry.

Puck smirked. "Just be glad you don't find out. Though maybe you should, it'll help prepare you for the mean streets of New York. When do you head out, anyway?"

"Twelve days," Kurt answered. "Well, eleven and a half. We're going overnight, I want to get some initial decoration done in the day or so I have before Rachel arrives and I have to deal with her still somewhat suspect taste."

Puck shrugged. "Not much time to get you toughened up, then. Shoulda started earlier."

"You started with me almost four years ago."

Puck laughed. "True. Well you survived the Puckasaurus, so New York should be no problem. Wonder if anyone's warned _them_ about _you_." He looked over at Finn, who was still eating. "Aren't you finished yet?"

"What, I gotta hurry up so we can hang out?" Finn mumbled. But Puck's needling certainly stopped him from brooding, so it wasn't all bad. "Don't you have some pools to clean or something?"

"All taken care of," Puck said. "Keeps the customers happy if they're all ready before the weekend, especially when it's hot like this."

"Forethought from Noah Puckerman, wonders will never cease," Kurt commented, clearing the plates now that Finn was finished.

Puck leered. "Keeping the ladies happy is a Puckerman specialty. You wouldn't know anything about that, Hummel."

Finn whacked Puck on the arm. "Parents in the next room, could you keep it PG?"

"Yeah, okay," Puck replied. "Let's head outside."

Finn followed Puck into the back yard, with Puck picking up Finn's football from the back porch as they went.

"More football?" Finn asked dubiously.

"Get back on the horse," Puck retorted, pitching the ball at Finn's feet. "Just hang out, like you said. That's assuming you want to be wasting your time hanging around me."

Finn frowned. "I got the message, okay? The clock's ticking and I don't have much time."

"Wow, cliché city. And here I thought I was being so subtle."

"For you, yeah."

"Well someone needs to ride your ass, and Hummel's taken."

Finn cringed at the disturbingly literal imagery, then shook his head to clear it. "Riding my ass doesn't do me a damn bit of good when I don't have the first clue what I want to do or what I even can do." He picked up the football, positioned his hand carefully on the laces, aligned his body, and threw. It felt good to think about it as he moved, feeling his muscles flex, fully present.

Puck moved down to retrieve the ball from Finn's long throw. "Sounded yesterday like you were onto something, making progress anyway, what's stopping you?"

"I can't keep going when I don't really know her," Finn answered. "And whenever I'm around her I seem to hurt her, and I can't get to know her like that. I get tense, or I pull away, or I let myself do too much, say the wrong things..." Finn trailed off, then groaned in frustration. "One way or another I can't stop screwing up with her."

"Wow, you really are back in sophomore year," Puck commented, lobbing the ball back.

"Ass." Finn fired it off hard. Puck caught it and smirked.

"No, seriously, this sounds just like you and her all over again. That spring, maybe, so that's some progress I guess."

"Well bad enough I did it once. I can't remember it but I bet she does." Tired of throwing the ball, Finn went over to the house and flung himself down on the steps.

"If she knew it would work she wouldn't give a damn." Puck lounged on the grass nearby.

"Yeah, I know," Finn muttered. "But we don't know it'll work, it might even make everything worse. And I know I can screw up and get away with it, while I'm trying to figure this whole _insane_ situation out, so I probably screw up more. And then I feel guilty."

"And then you screw up again 'cause you hate feeling guilty."

"Seen it before, huh."

"Pretty much classic you. Especially with her."

"Huh."

"So what do you want to do, anyway? If you could?"

Finn paused, thinking. "I guess I just want to get to know her better, understand more about what she's like. Get to the point where I can be around her and be comfortable, or at least not feel like she's some stranger. But it's hard. I get around her, I start thinking about how she's reacting, or how I'm reacting to her, how I'm not really the guy she knows, what the hell my subconscious might decide to do... _aargh_." Finn scuffed the corner of the step in frustration. "I either can't relax enough or I relax too much, and I start screwing up or shutting down. Maybe if I knew her better I could deal with her better, but how can I get to know her better when I'm like this?"

"Vicious cycle."

"Yeah. And it's hard to get motivated when it's so frustrating, I mean I know I need to figure this mess out and she's part of that, and, well, that _kiss_, but I don't even know how interested I am, really. How can I be, I hardly know her."

Puck thought for a moment. "I know what you should do," he said. "You should come to Hannah's show with me tomorrow."

"Um, what?" _What does that have to do with anything?_

"Hannah, my kid sister? She's in this show at the Jewish Community Center, local production of _Fiddler on the Roof_." Puck caught Finn's look of confusion. "Hell, you have forgotten a lot." He took a deep breath. "_Fiddler on the Roof_ is a musical about Jews."

"And you thought I knew this _how_?"

"It's pretty big. And Rachel's got a poster from it in her room. Or she did."

"Which _you_ know how?" Finn frowned, his voice agitated.

"Nothing much happened, okay? Calm down."

"Yeah, okay, she told me about that." Finn breathed. "And yeah, she's got a bunch of posters up but I didn't look at them."

"You've been over, huh? Was that -"

"Yes." Finn glared at Puck. "Wasn't there long enough to look around."

"Like you'd see the room much."

"Hmph."

"Anyway, the JCC's putting it on, and Hannah's in it – it's about a family in Russia, not quite as boring as it sounds, and she's the second youngest of the five daughters. Rachel's playing one of the older ones. She missed a bunch of rehearsals but could probably do it in her sleep anyway. Show's tomorrow night. It's not a big part but she sings, even has a solo, and she can get all dramatic. So if you want to see her really doing what she does best, find out more of what she's about, you should go see it. I have to go 'cause of Hannah anyway."

* * *

Finn and Puck sat at the back of the small auditorium, Finn because he didn't want Rachel to see him and have it throw her off, and Puck because he didn't want anyone to see him if he could help it. Though Finn figured the mohawk was a giveaway, Puck sucked at blending in. The place was nearly full, a lot of locals had come to see it. Finn almost choked, though, when the lead, the father, came on at the beginning; while the man was heavily disguised by a fake beard, there was no mistaking those intense dark eyes that he'd once found staring at him at work in the tire shop. _Who the hell – _Finn scrabbled for the program, they'd arrived not long before curtain time so he hadn't looked at it yet. He peered at it in the dark, trying to find and read the cast list.

"What are you doing?" Puck whispered.

"Who is that?" Finn whispered back.

"The lead? LeRoy Berry. Rachel's dad."

_Shit._ So it wasn't something he'd done before – it had been something he had been doing right then, how hurt Rachel had been when he'd pushed her away.

"Do you remember him?" Puck whispered again.

"Just from since the accident."

"Shh!" came a warning from in front of them, and they settled down to watch the musical.

Finn was still distracted at first, thinking about what Rachel's dad had been doing at the tire shop that day. He'd had so much going on with his family he hadn't considered that everyone else had one too, that Rachel had parents that he must have met, since he was engaged to their daughter. He wondered what they'd thought about him, before the accident, that their daughter was engaged at seventeen and going to move in with her fiancé when they moved to New York for college. That she'd felt so intensely about him, the way she'd told him she felt and the way she'd looked at him. And what they'd thought since, about the accident and his memory loss and how he'd treated their daughter. He knew that his amnesia wasn't a coverall excuse for how he'd acted, and he expected that Rachel's parents would be even less likely to excuse his behavior. Her dad had probably come to tell him off but hadn't known what to say.

Then Rachel came on stage, and he was pulled out of his thoughts to watch her. Finn soon found himself getting into the musical, which did seem a bit familiar, it was well known. He relaxed, watching Rachel with her 'sisters', singing lightheartedly about men, playing games, and dancing. Puck had been right, she shone on stage, and her voice was so beautiful. He'd heard her a bit in the song they'd sung for him in hospital, and briefly on his iPod, but that was nothing compared to this.

Finn suprisingly found he could relate to the story. An arranged marriage – that was what he'd felt he was getting, when he'd woken up in hospital and found he was engaged to Rachel. Here is your life, no choice. But the older couple was touching too, they'd given it a chance and found love anyway. Of course Finn's 'matchmaker' was himself. (_Just because I don't remember it doesn't mean I didn't do it._)

Finn tensed when Rachel's part heated up, with the romance between her character and the radical student, flirting and acting that they were falling in love. Jealousy? Not really – maybe – he wasn't sure what he was feeling. Good thing that though the guy acted young he was probably close to thirty. Then, near the end, Rachel came on stage with her father and started her solo.

_**Wow.**_

Freed from the need to blend with others, she was a powerhouse, both vocally and emotionally, and it hit Finn like the proverbial ton of bricks. And he could tell she was pouring herself into the song of love and longing: (*)

_How could I know that a man would come  
who would change the shape of my dreams_

This was how she expressed herself, and did she ever. She was mesmerizing, and Finn stared at her, agape.

_wanting home, **wanting him**_

At those two words her tears started to flow, and Finn knew they were for him. By the time she ended with:

_and wherever he is, I'm home_

Finn found he was crying too, crying for her, crying for himself and what they'd both lost. And he felt it deep inside, as if she'd reached her hand out and wrapped it around his heart.

The ovation was loud, the audience on their feet and aroar with appreciation. Finn heard sniffles from around the auditorium, and felt a little better about his own tears on realizing how many others she'd affected. He wiped his eyes, attracting Puck's notice.

"You okay, dude?"

"Dumb question," Finn muttered. "Hell, I don't know how I'm doing from one minute to the next. Best I can, I guess."

Rachel had been pressured out to take a bow, with her father showing a mix of pride and concern. As the audience reseated themselves for the show to continue, Finn overheard a comment from the older woman in front of him, talking to her neighbor: "She was engaged to the boy who lost his memory in that accident. It's so sad."

That was Rachel's big exit number, so she wasn't back until she came out for the curtain call, her painted smile not reaching her eyes. After the show was over, Finn turned to Puck. "So that was supposed to_ help_, was it?"

"Yeah, dude. Hey, you wanted to know more about what she's like, right? She connects best when she sings, always has. What you saw, that's her. And she loves to perform, you can't know her without seeing that."

"Is she going to be okay?" He wanted to comfort her, hold her to his heart and promise that her pain would go away. But he couldn't make that promise, not when what was hurting her was him, the absence of the old him. He couldn't promise to be that man again, or to replace him and love her.

"Are you?" Puck caught Finn's wince. "Look, you shouldn't feel bad that she still wants you so much. At least now you know. And if you want her, now that you've really seen her, go for it." He slapped his friend on the shoulder. "Think about it, dude. I'm going backstage to congratulate my sister, so I'll check on Berry. See you later." With that, Puck left Finn alone with his thoughts.

_If I want her – I don't know what I really want. Or do I? I know I can't stop thinking about her, these last few days anyway, and when she sang... **wow**. But that's not enough. And all that emotion, for me... scary._

* * *

"Noah!" Hannah flew to hug her brother once Puck went backstage.

"Hey kid, you were great," Puck said, hugging his sister back.

"Thank you! It was so much fun, even the end where we're all acting sad." Hannah smiled up at him, but sobered. "But I don't think Rachel was acting."

Puck disengaged himself from his sister. "Where is she?"

"She's in the back. Her dad's there too." Hannah pursed her lips. "She was fine in rehearsal."

"Performing feels different," Puck commented. "Didn't it feel different for you?"

"Yes. I was all nervous at first but then it was cool."

"Good girl." Puck smiled encouragingly at her. "And you didn't look nervous at all, performing's in your blood. Why don't you get changed and I'll meet you back here in fifteen." Hannah nodded and rushed off.

Puck ventured further backstage, listening, and followed the sound of soft crying to the green room. Rachel sat slumped on a couch, twisting her costume kerchief in her hands as she cried; LeRoy sat next to her, his arm around her for comfort. He looked up at Puck entering.

"I'll get changed and be right back," LeRoy said to his daughter. She sniffled and nodded to him, then followed his eyes to see Puck. LeRoy left them.

Rachel dried her eyes. "Hello, Noah. Have you seen Hannah? She was great."

"Yeah, she told me you were back here." He sat in the chair next to the couch. "And you kicked ass, as usual, but you're not that good an actress, Rachel. Hurts like hell, huh?"

"Yes," she replied. "Things have gotten better, I thought I could handle it but – Perchik changed Hodel's world just like Finn changed mine. And I miss him, I want him so badly." She sniffled again. "But it does feel a bit better to channel it than keep it in."

"Well you brought the house down."

"Silver lining, I guess." She closed her eyes for a moment, then looked back at Puck. "It's getting harder, the closer I get to going to college," she admitted. "I don't see how I can leave him. And I wasn't supposed to, once he got into City I thought we'd never have to be apart, and I don't know how I can move into our apartment without him, sleep alone in the bed we were supposed to share..." she teared up again, and Puck squeezed her hand.

"At least you won't be alone."

"Yes." Rachel sighed. "We'll be a lonely pair, Kurt and I, though at least he'll have Blaine, even far away. I almost asked Finn to come tonight," she admitted. "But I just couldn't bring myself to do it, too worried about whether he'd come and how he'd react. Even now I don't know whether to be sorry or relieved that he didn't see that song."

"Ah... he did."

"What?"

"I told him about it, had him come with me. We were at the back. He's gone home by now."

"Oh."

"Hudson really is trying, he wants to remember, Berry," Puck insisted. "And he wants to remember you and know you better, that's why he came, to see what you do and learn more about how you are."

"So Finn just saw me emote about him all over the stage," Rachel groaned.

"Hey, it wouldn't be the first time, far from it. And most of the other times worked pretty well. Yeah you can be overwhelming, but he's always found those strong feelings of yours really appealing."

"And?" Rachel asked with trepidation.

"I know he was impressed. Even more than the rest of the audience, there weren't many dry eyes once you finished."

"Impressing him isn't what I want."

"It's a start, you kinda did that in the first place. Gotta hold his attention, right? And I know there's more going on, not sure what and he doesn't know either, he's really mixed up. But I needle him about you and it never fails. Anything suggestive about you, or you and some other guy, even like on stage tonight, and Hudson gets jealous. Not sure he gets that he is, but I know the signs. Deep down, that dude wants you. Even without zoning out."

"Really?" Rachel wiped her eyes again, hopeful.

"Yep. I mentioned you had a poster from this show in your room, from Broadway, and he demanded to know how I knew."

"He didn't act like that when I talked to him in hospital."

Puck shrugged. "He's more himself than he was then."

"I hope so." Rachel brightened. "Thank you, Noah," she said, standing up. "Thank you so much, for that, for everything." Puck rose too, and she hugged him. "I need to get changed."

"And Hannah's waiting for me by now. But take care of yourself, Berry. I'll keep an eye on Hudson. For himself."

"Thank you." Rachel hugged Puck again and then let him leave.

* * *

_* "Far From the Home I Love", from Fiddler on the Roof, lyrics by Sheldon Harnick._


	16. the spark still flies

_"If you want her, go for it."_ Puck's words still echoed in Finn's brain once he got home that night. After everything that had happened in the last few days, Finn had to admit to himself that he wanted her all right. His subconscious clearly wanted her, and, with that amazing kiss and all the passion she'd shown when she sang, his conscious self wanted her too. But acting on it was a different thing entirely. Easy for Puck to say 'go for it', it wasn't his life that would be screwed up by Finn handling it badly because he couldn't follow through on what his instinct wanted to do. That passion, that yearning that Rachel had projected as she sang, the emotion that still seemed to clench around his heart – he had no idea how he'd ever lived up to it, much less be able to now. And he couldn't just let loose and let his subconscious take over, it wanted to do way more than Finn understood. He had to be careful with Rachel, he couldn't make promises to her that would just get broken. She'd been hurt so much already.

He wished that he could love her, fill that hole for her that he'd left, make it so that all her passion and devotion wasn't in vain. And the vivid memory of how amazing it felt to kiss her, how _right_, suggested to him that this could be what he needed too. Even if he couldn't remember... could he ever move on to anyone else, knowing that this possibility was behind him somewhere? Maybe he could still love her, again. If he could just get to know her, spend time with her without the pressure of his lost memories getting to either of them. Right now he wanted her, but that wasn't enough, not for her. And he was really getting ahead of himself here, since he still had such a hard time talking to her, and feeling the effects of her singing didn't help with that _at all_, it made it worse even.

Finn admitted to himself that under all of this, his need to remember burned more strongly than ever. He really wanted to give that lonely passionate girl what she needed, the him she knew with all their shared history, who had presumably somehow figured out how to relate to a girl who sang so mesmerizingly about _them_. And she was leaving for New York in less than two weeks. He didn't have time to get to know her.

Finn groaned. _Too much stress,_ he thought. _The shrink says I need to relax into things. Wonder what he's going to say tomorrow about the week I've had._

He needed to relieve some of his stress, go bowling or something. Finn brightened suddenly. _I should take Rachel bowling,_ he told himself. _Like an actual date, but simple, just something fun where we don't have to worry about anything serious. Maybe with other people, too, who could distract us so we don't have to focus on each other all the time._

_But who? People she knows, people I know... hmm, not that many of those. Mike. And Tina, they're together, Rachel knows her, we could make it a double date._

Finn checked the time – not too late to call Mike, he figured. Five minutes later he had a plan, and felt good about 'the Rachel situation' for the first time since he'd found out about her when he'd woken up in hospital.

* * *

"Hi." The familiar but unexpected voice made Rachel look up from where she sat at the table in the Lima Bean that morning.

She smiled in happy surprise. "Hello, Finn. It's good to see you."

"Kurt's going to be about ten minutes late," Finn said, returning her smile as he folded himself into the seat across from her.

Rachel looked bemused. "Kurt's never late for coffee."

"I asked him to be, I want to talk to you about something."

"Oh?"

"So... I saw you sing last night."

Rachel nodded. "Noah told me."

"Yeah, I figured he might have."

She bit her lip. "And?" she asked hesitatingly.

"You were amazing," Finn said, his face flushing. "You... just... _amazing_. Stunning. Left me speechless." He looked sheepish. "Guess I still am." He didn't want to talk about how it was about him, the him she'd lost – they both knew that and it would just get in the way of what he was trying to do, avoid the big emotional stuff and get to know her. He swallowed, rubbing the hair at the back of his neck nervously. "It kinda made me wonder how I ever got you to go out with me, actually, but I guess I did, so... I was wondering if you would again. Go out with me."

Rachel smiled, blushing a little. "Are you asking me out on a date, Finn?"

"Yeah. I've just been thinking, about this whole I-don't-really-know-you thing, well, I should be more comfortable if I did get to know you." He shrugged. "I know it seems weird since you know me, but I'd like to give it a shot. Just go out and have some fun, keep it loose. Stay away from the big stuff and just be two people getting to know each other, if you can try that."

"That sounds like a very good idea," she responded. "What did you have in mind?"

"Bowling?" Finn hesitated a little as he said that, second-guessing his plan at the last minute. He'd never have asked Quinn to go bowling with him, it wasn't really a "date night" activity as far as she was concerned. But Rachel seemed more down-to-earth and understanding. She'd better be, he couldn't see himself being with someone that was serious all the time, it would be too exhausting. Especially since serious Rachel was clearly very serious indeed. And they really needed to do something light and fun, that was the only way he could see this working for him. "I was thinking for tomorrow night."

Rachel beamed at him. "Bowling would be wonderful. And yes, I'm free tomorrow night."

"With Mike and Tina? I figure they can distract us a little." His mouth quirked up in a half-grin. "And Mike can restrain me if my subconscious decides it wants to take over again and do something inappropriate."

Rachel gave an exaggerated pout. "If he must. We may have different definitions of appropriate." She sobered, then smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to scare you. Yes, going with Mike and Tina sounds great."

"Great." Finn smiled at her. "Pick you up at seven?"

"I'll be waiting."

Finn left, still smiling. This could work.

Later that morning, when Finn had his weekly meeting with his shrink, the doctor didn't say anything bad about what had been going on, just nodded and scribbled a lot and said that his last week was "very promising". Finn wasn't sure what that meant, and was disappointed that the doctor didn't have anything to say about the acting on autopilot episodes that were (still) freaking Finn out, but at least he wasn't against Finn's current plan, and even acted about as approving as he ever did. Which was good since Finn wasn't about to bail on it, not when that would just hurt Rachel _again_, and the dude had kept telling him to relax into some activities, so this seemed to fit. All was set for a good relaxing evening of bowling, like a second first date.

* * *

Tuesday night Finn arrived at Rachel's just before seven, and was halfway up the walk when she came out to meet him. She looked cute, her hair straight and shiny. They smiled at each other and made the usual 'good to see you again' comments, though they both stayed away from the 'how are you doing' questions that would have required answers of too much honesty or outright lies. Finn helped Rachel into the passenger seat, mindful of his best 'first date' behavior, and they were on their way.

They had to wait a little at the bowling alley, as an after-work league was finishing up play. Mike and Tina greeted them cheerily and complimented Rachel on the musical; they'd sat up front at the performance, though Finn hadn't noticed them. He and Puck had been hiding in the back, after all, he figured, though a small part of him had to admit that he'd been watching the show quite intently and hadn't been interested in the rest of the audience.

The alley was playing some sort of oldies mix, and Tina and Rachel started shimmying around to the music as they waited. Finn smiled, happy to feel the tone he wanted, casual, fun. He listened to Mike talk about his summer so far, glad for the distraction.

Finally they had a lane, changed into the shoes, and started to bowl. Finn was the only one with much bowling experience, so he led off. Mike followed, using his dancer's abilities to copy Finn's form with reasonable success. Rachel went next, smiling to herself as she picked up a small pink ball. She was far less successful, balls lofting a bit and heading for the gutter, though she did clip two pins with her last one.

"You haven't bowled much, huh?" Finn commented to Rachel as she returned to the seats after her first frame.

"It's been a while," Rachel said. "A couple of years since I've done it much. And I used to be terrible."

"What, your last guy didn't take you bowling that often? What a jerk," Finn said casually.

She looked sideways at him, caught his half-supressed smile, and started to giggle. That set Finn off, and they laughed for a while together. They were interrupted eventually by Tina's return; she'd had three gutters, and they consoled her while reassuring her that their laughter had nothing to do with the game.

In the next frame Finn noticed Rachel watching him carefully as he bowled, studying his form. He talked through what he was doing for his second ball, at least as much as he could without messing up too much and wrecking his spare, then gave her a few pointers when it was her turn again. She listened intently and gave it a try, doing better; Tina, too, was quickly improving.

They were all doing pretty well and having a good time by about halfway through the first game, when suddenly the whole attempt at a "second first date" almost went off the rails. Rachel had been slowly but steadily improving, and had managed a score of nine for a frame; happy, relaxed, she goofed around a little with Tina as the other girl went up to replace her at the line. Then she casually slid into Finn's lap, her arm around his neck, not even really looking at him as she did so, still laughing at something Tina had said. She stiffened almost immediately and shot to her feet.

"Oh, I am so sorry," she babbled, clearly aghast.

"That's okay," Finn said, swallowing. It didn't feel okay, it felt kind of weird and definitely sudden, he hadn't been paying attention as she'd approached him, but he tried to calm them both down to save the evening. He looked at the floor for a moment, then back up at her. She looked completely stunned. Scared. Tina had continued bowling, and Mike was focusing on her, probably not wanting to get involved. "I guess you have reflexes too," Finn said, trying to joke about it. At least it meant she'd been relaxed. She certainly wasn't now, though he realized that was probably more from having to pull back than from slipping up.

She mustered a small smile, blinking back a few tears. "I guess so."

Finn got up and went to her. "Hey, it's not like you tried to molest me or something," he said softly, with a forced chuckle. "Let's just push past it, okay? Please?" She nodded silently, then went to sit at the forward console and watch Tina's last ball as Finn returned to his seat. He took a few moments to get himself settled down as well, since the sudden close contact had made him spring to half-mast in reaction. _First date,_ he told himself. _Just a first date._

Mike interrupted his thoughts. "Finn? You're up."

Finn blinked. "Right, uh, thanks." He took a couple more deep breaths and rose to bowl his next frame, Rachel seemingly studying the scores instead of watching him. He didn't get many pins with the first ball – too bad, since he'd had another spare before – but he got back into it and eventually cleared them all. When Rachel's turn came around again he went back to giving her advice as if nothing had happened. They soon settled back to the way they'd been before, even starting to joke around a little again, and decided to have a second game once they finished the first one.

_This was definitely an awesome idea_, Finn thought as he watched Rachel continue to bowl. He was enjoying getting to know a side of Rachel he hadn't seen before; he'd seen her quiet supportive side and her big emotional side, and he'd been rocked by the power of her performance, but he'd never seen her goof off and be silly. They'd managed to get back to having a fun casual time, and the second game was off to a good start. And Rachel was lighting up, talking excitedly to Tina and reacting strongly to her results, both good and bad. She frowned and pouted when her first ball went into the gutter, and beamed when the next one cleared away seven pins. She was herself, and she felt very real, more real than any girl Finn had ever known, and certainly much more real than Quinn. He'd never been able to goof off with Quinn, and though Rachel was more serious and emotional she was also much more cute and fun. She gave her all to _everything_ she did, apparently, and as she lit up it seemed that everything around her did too, her enthusiasm spreading.

And Finn couldn't deny that her ass looked really hot in that slim brown skirt as she bent to get her third ball. _Should I be checking her out like that? Would I if she wasn't who she is? Probably_, Finn thought. _I'm on a fun date with a hot girl._ He glanced around for a moment and was relieved to see that nobody else was checking her out, just him. That skirt was really short for doing something where she'd have to bend over so much. Right in front of him. Of course she knew she would be. And she had probably been checking him out earlier too. _A first date is still a date,_ he told himself.

Rachel had paused, her third ball in her hand, looking critically at the split of the three pins she had remaining. Finn got up and went to help her out.

"Hey," he said, standing behind her, looking over her right shoulder at the remaining pins. "See between the two right pins?" He put his left hand at her waist and his right arm over her shoulder, pointing at the space between the two right pins, glancing down to check that he was lining his finger up with her eyes properly. _Helps that she's short_, he thought. His glance down lingered a little as he noticed he could also see down her pale pink scoop-necked shirt. _Helps that too._ He pulled his eyes up to her face, so close to his as he bent over her shoulder, and saw her smile as she flicked her eyes to his. She lowered them briefly, then swallowed and composed herself.

"Aim right there?"

"Yes. Try to hit the right side of the middle pin, it should knock the pin over to the left and send the ball right. You might get them all, and if not at least there's a good chance of getting something."

She nodded decisively. "Geometry."

"I suck at geometry." _Pretty sure that's still true._

She smiled. "Bowling geometry." They chuckled together.

Finn's head was still over her shoulder, and the position was starting to affect him, so close to the smooth skin of her neck and to her scent. He swallowed and let her go. "Go for it." He stepped back to watch. Her movement was good as she brought the ball back carefully and released it without much lofting. Her form had improved a lot during the evening, though she could still use a few pointers; _she was probably just rusty_, he thought. And her aim was pretty good, clipping the front right of the pin, sending it over to just miss the left one as the ball took out the right pin as well.

"Oh!" Rachel shook her head at the close call, smiling. "Oh well, next time," she chirped.

"Yeah, that was good," Finn said, smiling back at her, his eyes lingering a little until she moved out of the way to let Tina take her turn. He went back to where Mike sat. "Okay, I've got a bet for you," he told Mike. "Most improved, my girl versus yours."

Mike smiled. "You're on. Loser pays?"

"Loser pays for next time."

"Oho! Going that well, huh? Sure. Loser pays for dinner at Breadstix, later this week."

"Sounds pricey." Finn grinned. "I hope you've got some cash you don't need for college, because we are going to win this one."

"Talk is cheap, hope you aren't. And for your sake I hope your girl's memory is better than yours."

"Amnesiac trash-talk? Seriously?" Finn and Mike laughed together. "But don't worry about us, I don't need my memory to know that my girl can bring it."

A couple of frames later, Finn was giving Rachel even more attention, walking her through the shot she needed to deal with her current pin split. She stopped and looked at him speculatively.

"Do you and Mike have a bet on?" she asked.

"Uh, yeah," Finn admitted. "Between you and Tina, who improves the most from the first game."

"You really should have told me."

"Sorry," Finn said sheepishly. "I can probably call it off if you want, I think we're ahead so Mike won't mind."

"Oh no, don't call it off." Rachel sounded serious, but had a bit of a smile. "Just walk me through that movement again, please."

"Okay." Finn guided her through the motion again, then stepped back to watch her execute it successfully. Her focus had intensified, and she started being able to make more difficult shots. _Competitive_, Finn noted, smiling to himself, enjoying her enthusiasm at her improved success. _That's my girl._

By the end of the game Mike was willing to concede the bet, but Rachel was interested in her progress so she reviewed the frame-by-frame scores at the console, Tina keeping her company. Finn stretched out at the back, relaxed and energized, happy by how well things had gone. He started tapping his foot along to the oldies music playing over the bowling alley's sound system: Summertime Blues. He restrained himself as Mike came over.

"Hey, let loose if you want to," Mike said, chuckling.

Finn shrugged. "I'm not a kid anymore, I can't just air drum all over the place on a date."

"Sounds like you're second-guessing. Just be yourself. Whatever yourself you feel you are."

Finn grinned and let himself get into the rhythm, tapping both feet. He tipped his head back, closed his eyes, and relaxed, feeling the music. As the refrain began again, he started softly singing along: (*)

_Sometimes I wonder what I'm a gonna do  
But there ain't no cure for the summertime blues_

The sound of Finn's voice singing went through Rachel like a bolt of lightning, and she broke off from analyzing her bowling progress to turn and watch him. She stood and walked slowly to Finn, then sat quietly next to him as he continued into the song's final verse.

_I'm gonna take two weeks, gonna have a fine vacation  
I'm gonna take my problem to the United Nations  
Well I called my congressman and he said Quote:  
"I'd like to help you son but you're too young to vote"_

Finn dropped into his lower register and did the quote comically, and Rachel giggled. For the last refrain she joined in, and he heard her voice softly harmonizing with his:

_Sometimes I wonder what I'm a gonna do  
But there ain't no cure for the summertime blues_

Finn airdrummed the song out, then sighed and opened his eyes to see Rachel smiling at him. "That was good," she told him, and he smiled back at her, their eyes meeting for a breath.

Meanwhile, Mike was hurriedly talking to the middle-aged man at the cash. "Any way we can get some Journey on?"

"Sorry, it's all satellite," was the response.

"Classic Rock?" Tina asked.

The man shrugged and changed the station, and "Johnny B. Goode" was replaced by "Hot Blooded". But Finn had already risen and was escorting Rachel back to meet them, his hand on her back.

* * *

Finn stopped the car in front of Rachel's house and walked her to the door. She stepped one step up to the front door, then turned back to face him.

"I've had a wonderful time tonight, Finn," she said happily, smiling at him. The extra step brought their heights closer together, and she looked him in the eye.

"So did I," Finn said, returning her smile and gaze. His heart was starting to race at the nearness of her. "Breadstix on Thursday, right? I'll come get you at five-thirty."

"Yes." She paused. "May I kiss you goodnight?" she asked tentatively. "Since this is a date."

Finn swallowed. _I hope I can control myself out here,_ he thought. "You can if you want to," he said, deliberately echoing her words from their previous encounter, his eyes never leaving hers.

"I want to." With that she brought her hand up to his jaw and leaned forward, closing her eyes as she kissed him, her lips pressing tenderly but firmly against his.

_Wow._ And Finn kissed her back, feeling a fire growing inside himself, yet still staying fully aware of it all.

They parted, Rachel biting her lower lip slightly, as if to taste his kiss a little longer. She smiled shyly at him. "Goodnight, Finn. And thank you again for the wonderful evening." She turned and stepped up to her door, and then she was gone.

Finn stood by the steps for a moment, still feeling the effects of Rachel's kiss. _Her mouth – it just does stuff to me,_ he thought. _And touching her, it's like I'm on fire._

Driving home, he thought about what a good time they'd had, happy and relaxed, having fun and winning the bet. He liked that she was competitive, even more that she clearly listened to his advice while still staying herself. And she let him be himself too, even encouraged it. It was so easy to let loose when she did too, and her energy was contagious. He'd enjoyed kicking back, drumming and singing along to the music, and her voice had sounded really good with his when she'd joined in.

Finn could tell he was starting to feel a connection to Rachel, maybe even part of that tether thing that Quinn had told him about. Was he reacting to her because subconsciously he remembered her? He didn't know. He hadn't before, not until he'd really looked at her, listened to her, gotten closer to her. Maybe he'd just discovered the answer to the question that everyone had, that he'd had himself, about how they'd gotten so serious so fast and so young. Maybe this was just how they were, how they'd always been.

Either way, Thursday night couldn't come soon enough for him.

* * *

_* "Summertime Blues" as performed by Eddie Cochran, written by Eddie Cochran and Jerry Capehart._

* * *

_Please review!  
_


	17. sometimes our circuits get shorted

Late Thursday afternoon found Rachel in her room, having picked out something to wear for the dinner double date. She'd put a lot of time into working on her appearance for that evening, threading carefully between opposing considerations. Stunning but approachable. Sexy but friendly. Dressy but still somewhat casual. And, of course, well put together but (seemingly) effortless.

She surveyed the results happily. Hair in soft shiny curls, her neck lightly scented with a cologne Finn had openly appreciated before; multi-colored pastel sundress, well-contoured at her bust and ending just above her knees while standing and a couple of inches shorter when sitting; cream-colored medium-heeled sandals. Just right. She looked at the pictures of Finn next to her mirror and whispered "I love you." On impulse she added the star necklace he'd given her. She could use its reminder of the boy who always believed in her whether they were together or not.

She frowned, though, as the same thought resurfaced that had been bothering her since Monday morning. Why had Finn asked her to go bowling? Was this some part of his memories fighting through, reminding him of when he'd taken her bowling before, or was it just the natural thing for Finn at that stage to think of, now as it had been then? She sighed. There was no way to tell, and it was already driving her crazy. She certainly couldn't ask him, he'd just worry, so she had to stop thinking about it. But having their "second first date" be so similar to their original sort-of first date was hard to ignore. She'd hoped all evening that the similarity might help him remember something, especially when he'd been guiding her movements, but apparently it hadn't done anything.

And while it had led to a lovely evening, easily their best interactions so far, and Finn was clearly interested, the let's-pretend-we-just-met approach was taking its toll on her. It may have made Finn a lot more comfortable, which was certainly wonderful, but she had a hard time maintaining her side of it. Having to pull back from him had been physically painful. Still, if this was how she needed to be to help Finn, and hopefully get him back one way or another, it was worth it.

_It's Finn. Of course he's worth it._

* * *

The two couples met at Breadstix and were quickly shown to their booth, with the girls sitting on the inside. Finn looked through the menu rapidly, realizing that the others were very familiar with this place; Mike had told him it was their usual hangout, but it had opened during the time Finn had forgotten so he didn't know it at all. However, it seldom took Finn all that long to find something he'd want to eat, and tonight was no different.

The waitress went around the table taking their orders, starting closest to her (despite Mike's best efforts to have her take Tina's order before his). Finn ordered the spaghetti and meatballs, which was a good basic choice, but he was surprised when he heard Rachel's order: vegan lasagna.

"You're a vegetarian?" Finn asked as the waitress left. He was shocked. He thought he'd been getting to know her, and at least starting to feel relaxed around her, but this came out of the blue. He was a total carnivore, make that omnivore like his mom always teased him about, or at least he thought he always was.

"Vegan, actually."

_I don't know the difference but I'm pretty sure that's worse._ Finn frowned. "Am I? I mean –"

"Did I get you to eat vegan when we were together?" Rachel completed for him, wincing at her words. "No, you'd probably starve to death. Between us we eat almost everything."

"Finn by himself eats almost everything," Mike commented. "I don't see anyone being able to change _that_ even if they wanted to."

Finn joined in with the general laughter at that; it was true, and had been what he'd been thinking himself, but he was distracted by how unsettled he felt at this sudden revelation about Rachel. He'd always thought of vegetarians as being fussy and uptight, and he wouldn't have expected that of her. Food for him was simple: take, eat. Sure some people had to be careful, especially as they got older and had issues like Burt did, but never someone his own age, not that extreme. And he'd planned to spend the rest of his life with her?

Searching for a different topic, Finn took a closer look at Rachel, who sat right next to him in the booth, her leg almost up against his. Having her so close was affecting him, her scent making him a bit dizzy, like he was losing control a little. "That's a pretty necklace," Finn commented, looking at the star chain.

Rachel gave him a genuine smile. "Thank you." Her smiled turned a little impish, which was echoed across the table by Tina. _Something about it, I guess. Like she knows I like it or something._ He glanced across the table again. _Like everyone knows I like it._

They talked aimlessly until the food arrived. Finn started in on his, which tasted fine. Not as good as his mom's, but hers was special.

"How's your food?" he asked Rachel, trying to be interested. Not that he could understand why someone would choose something like that instead of meat, but... _whatever floats your boat, I guess._

"It's good," she said. "You can try some if you like." Rachel pushed her plate closer to Finn.

Finn looked nonplussed at the dish, but shrugged his shoulders and took a forkful of the tofu. _Tastes like... styrofoam. In sauce. Not good._ He saw Rachel looking intently at him, and forced a smile. "It's ah, fine. Not bad," he lied.

"Liar." She smiled, taking the edge from her offhand comment.

Finn frowned, frustrated. "Just trying to be nice."

"I know."

"Did I like it, um, before?"

"No. Not this specific dish."

"Well if you know I don't like it why offer it?" Finn was getting annoyed.

"I just wanted to know what you'd say. Besides, you might have changed."

"I don't think I'd've changed about _that_."

"I suppose not," Rachel admitted. "But you do want to find out about these things yourself."

"Do you have a problem that I eat meat?" Finn was getting exasperated. Trying to focus on _now_ rather than _before_ wasn't working.

"No." Rachel turned to smile at Finn, trying to lift the mood. "Really, I don't and I never have. I don't have a problem with other people eating meat, it's a personal choice. And you've usually been very polite about my veganism. That's how I could tell you were faking liking it."

"It tastes like styrofoam."

"Have you ever eaten styrofoam?" Mike put in, trying to lighten the tone.

Finn smiled. "Maybe when I was three. But that stuff tastes like I imagine styrofoam would."

Rachel laughed. "Is there anything you won't eat?"

"That," Finn declared, pointing at her plate. "Do you not eat meat at all?"

"I do make exceptions sometimes. I have an old weakness for pepperoni pizza. And I'll cook meat, and I'm quite sure that people's appreciation for that has been genuine."

_Translation: she cooked meat for me and I liked it. Okay_. But even the talk of 'cooking meat' was starting to put him off his food a bit, which was hard. It just made it sound like she thought it was disgusting. Still, she liked pepperoni so not completely disgusting. And she'd brought him those burgers when he'd been in hospital, she wouldn't have done that if she'd had a huge problem with it. She'd had salad, he remembered, then and when she'd been over for lunch; he hadn't realized it was more than just eating light. Now, knowing that it was a principle for her, he felt like he was being humored. Judged. Even without her saying anything against what he ate, just the fact that she completely rejected it for herself annoyed him.

"Don't you like bacon, Rachel? I remember you saying something like that a while ago," Tina put in.

"I like the smell of bacon. But that's different."

"You've never tried it? Eating it?" Finn asked.

"I'm Jewish, Finn."

_At least I knew that._ "So's Puck and he loves it."

"It's not hard to be more religiously observant than Noah Puckerman. But no, I haven't tried eating it, I just like the smell. I don't really like the texture of meat much anyway."

"But then when would you smell bacon? To know you liked it?"

Rachel looked very unsettled. "I just have. Could we talk about something else, please?"

"I'm sorry," Finn said, trying to stop thinking about it. "I just didn't expect this, that you were picky about food."

Rachel turned to Finn and gave him a tight smile. "Finn," she said, soft but intense, "I ordered something from the menu, prepared as the restaurant intended, and I'm eating it. The only person who's being picky about food here is _you_."

Mike and Tina both looked intently at their own plates, trying to pretend they weren't there.

"I guess," Finn said lamely. "It just... I don't know, it changes what I thought was true. My, um, 'mental image' or something like that." He stared at his own plate, not that interested in eating any more. _And I was starting to trust myself with her – guess my subconscious isn't telling me anything useful now._

Rachel looked at Finn with concern, and touched his hand to get his attention. "It's not a big deal. You like to eat meat, I don't. All the more for you. And you're a lot bigger than I am so you need it."

"Sure," Finn said, trying to smile at her.

"And I'm sorry I offered you some of mine, I was just trying to be funny I suppose. Feel free to tell me how much better yours is."

Finn ate one of his meatballs, and the more familiar taste helped him relax a little. _I guess she wasn't trying to change me,_ he thought, _either now or then. It's just weird that she's so different and also weird that she just accepts me anyway. Unless that's an act._

All four of them resumed eating, and they tried to make light conversation, but any rapport they'd previously had was well and truly broken.

* * *

Once they'd finished their food, nobody really wanted to linger. Rachel excused herself to go to the washroom, Tina going along as well, and Mike flagged their waitress down to ask for the bill. Finn was still tense, though a bit distracted as the waitress, a young blond woman, was trying to catch his eye.

"She does make exceptions, you know," Mike told Finn. "And I'm pretty sure you didn't mind, the two of you had some in-joke about it back in January."

Finn let his eyes wander around the room, trying to get his mind off the subject.

The waitress returned with their bill for Mike, and gave another piece of paper to Finn with a flirty wink. He smiled back at her and opened it to find a name and phone number, then folded it back up.

"What are you doing?" Mike hissed, pulling the paper from Finn's hand.

"I'm being polite," Finn said with a frown. He made a grab for the paper but Mike moved it away.

"Newsflash, Finn: when you're on a date, paying attention to another girl and taking her phone number isn't remotely polite."

"It's not like Rachel sees it," Finn muttered. He just wanted to get out of there.

"Oh, so it's okay as long as she doesn't know? That's adult. And what is your problem tonight anyway?"

"I don't know," Finn shrugged. "Just finding stuff out. It's throwing me, I guess. She's a bit high maintenance, don't you think?"

"No, I don't," Mike threw back. "Like she said, her meal is straight off the menu. It's even cheap. And you should talk. We're not mind-readers, we don't know what you want and it keeps changing. Do you want people to let you remember things on your own, or do you want them to tell you things without you having to ask?" He waved the slip of paper in his hand, then threw it onto the table. "Do you want to continue to reconnect with your fiancée that you had such a good time with two days ago, or do you want to hook up with some empty-headed waitress? Pick one." His frown deepened. "And if it's the latter, please tell me why Tina and I are wasting our evening trying to help you out. I'm leaving in a bit over a week too, you know, and right now we could be having a good time by ourselves instead of trying to help you salvage your life." Mike looked like he wanted to say more, but bit it back and composed himself as he saw Tina and Rachel returning from the washroom. He leaned forward and gave Finn a last whisper as the girls approached. "Just think about what you're doing, Finn. Losing your memory does not give you license to be an ass. You weren't like this even three years ago."

Finn tried to smile at both Mike and Tina as they headed for the door, Mike diverting to pay the bill at the cash. He got up to join Rachel, standing close to her, trying to clear the quarrel from his head.

"Did you drop that, Finn?" Rachel asked, gesturing to the piece of paper on the table.

"No, it's nothing I want," Finn said, a little loudly, hoping both the waitress and his departing friend would hear him. He hadn't had any interest in the waitress, not the slightest, he had just been annoyed at how the date had gone sour and at Mike's accusation. And the waitress was completely out of line, she would have been able to tell that they'd been arguing and decided to make a play to interfere. He escorted Rachel out to the car in silence.

* * *

Driving Rachel back to her place, Finn hated that their evening was ending so early and so badly but didn't know what to do about it. He still couldn't shake his annoyance at how all these things he didn't know were getting in the way.

He saw a glint at her neck and reached out to move her hair away from where it had been covering her necklace. She flinched. "Sorry," he said in reflex. He glanced at the necklace again as he drove. She'd reacted to his noticing it at dinner, she'd acted as though there was something special about it. _Something special about jewelry being worn by a girl I went out with for years, huh? Idiot._ "Did I give that to you? When we were together, before?"

"Yes. Well, sort of. Um... it's complicated." But she gave him a smile. "Yes, it's from you." Her eyes flickered as she touched it. "So earlier, when I was thanking you, I was sort of thanking you for it, again. It just occurred to me at the time that I could mean that too."

_It's complicated, huh? Can't be more complicated than what we have now._ "I guess I had good taste," he commented, trying to steer his brain away from worrying about how much past hung over them.

"I hope you still do." Rachel acted like that was a light joke, but for Finn it still stung. He drove on in silence.

They pulled up in front of her house, but neither of them made any move to get out of the car, either Rachel to leave or Finn to escort her. After a moment she turned to him. "We need to work this out," she stated. "I don't know what's causing that mood of yours, but we can't leave it like this."

"I guess."

"You _guess?_" Clearly not the sort of response she was looking for. It had been pretty lame.

"Just – it's hard when you're keeping stuff from me," Finn tried to explain. "Like that you're vegan, I mean I thought I was getting to know you again and then I find out that, who keeps that sort of thing quiet? You tell me all that heavy stuff about _us_, right away, but you can't mention that you don't eat meat?"

"I guess it just never came up," Rachel tried to explain. "I had lunch with you and your family, didn't it get mentioned at some point?"

"Not to me." Finn exhaled. "I mean I know you went in for the salad, and you didn't have ice cream, but I didn't know why, guess I just figured you were watching your weight or something." _And I wasn't really paying attention to her then._

"Well that's why. And we've never had any problems about it before. All the other things I told you, yes about _us_, those were things that had been problems and I didn't want to have them again." She bit her lip, upset but struggling to get herself back under control. "Anyway, now you know. And I wasn't hiding it, you should be able to understand there wouldn't be any point to that."

Finn listened, and told himself she was right, that it didn't matter and there was no way she would have been able to hide it. If she'd come over for dinner instead of lunch it would have been obvious. Still... "So what about the exceptions?"

"I like pepperoni pizza," she reiterated. "Especially the good pepperoni, like they used to have at the bowling alley."

"And bacon? You don't eat it and your family doesn't either, but you like the smell, what's with that? Mike said we have some joke about your diet, is that part of it?"

"No," Rachel stated flatly, reddening. "That's _private_."

"It's me, Rachel." He really didn't like the feeling that she was hiding things. Or that there was something he'd had with her that he could never have again.

"_No._" She was getting very upset. "You don't explain a joke, especially not one like _that_. It's private between me and the one person who understands it, that's assuming I ever get to talk to him again. You can't have it both ways, get me to act like this is all new, like you're not who you were, and then claim our past when it suits you."

Finn exhaled. "Okay, yeah, sorry. But the bacon thing, Tina knew about that -"

"But not why."

"Still -"

"Figure it out, Finn." Rachel practically spat this out. "When would I have smelled it? Who do I know and spend time with that eats it?"

Finn wasn't really in a thinking mood. "_What?_ What's with the guessing games?"

"Just wanting you to use your brain, there's a lot more in it than you might think and it might feel more real if you figure it out instead of being told. Since you don't like to be told things, except when you do."

Finn didn't respond. He knew he was making her upset, and everything he said seemed to make it worse. But not answering didn't help either.

"Fine, do you want to know why I like the smell of bacon, Finn? It's because I associate it with having spent the night with _you_." Rachel exited the car in a rush and stormed up her front path.

Finn groaned. _It would have to be something like that._ He got out to follow her. "Rach, wait! I'm sorry."

She whirled to face him, in tears. "Please don't call me that."

"What, 'Rach'?" _I just did it – is it wrong?_

"Yes. I don't want you to call me that."

"Well if you don't like it, I guess... Rachel. Sorry. What's wrong with it?"

Rachel wiped her eyes, her face set. "When you remember, you'll know." She turned away again and continued to her house. "Goodnight, Finn."

* * *

Finn drove home in sullen silence, annoyed at how badly everything had gotten screwed up. How had he not known about Rachel's diet? He'd eaten with her, what, three times before. And why did it seem like such a big deal? She'd been sure it wasn't, but it just made her seem so different.

He was still frustrated when he got back home, and the slam to the door (_it just kinda happened_) attracted the attention of his mom and Burt, who were sitting in the living room.

"Did things not go so well, honey?" his mom asked solicitously. Finn frowned, leaning against the wall at the entrance to the room.

"Did you know that Rachel's vegan?" Finn's pointed question was met with silence. He groaned. "Of course you know," he said, mentally connecting the dots. "That's why there was soy milk in the fridge, when I came back from the hospital, for her when she came over."

"Rachel practically lived here while you were in that coma," Burt said, looking seriously at him. "The only places she could get to sleep were in the chair in your hospital room and in your bed here." He waved off Carole's attempted objection. "No, Carole, Finn needs to know. That girl's been through hell for him, hey she's still there, and he's worried about what she eats."

Finn felt like a heel. "It's just – I didn't know, and I felt blindsided," he tried to explain.

"You never had any issues about it before, honey," Carole said. "It's a little unusual around here, but she's not that hard to accommodate and she's always accommodated you."

_Of course she has. Probably cooked the bacon herself the morning after. Shit._ "It just snowballed."

"Well here's something else you should know," Burt said. "You do know she's been accepted at NYADA, that exclusive drama college that Kurt's also going to, right? They take 20 people into the musical theater program, from the entire country. The dream school for her." Burt paused until Finn nodded. "Well last week she called them up, asked them if she could defer her admission until next year."

"What?" _For me?_

"She can't. She'd have to reapply and go through the whole process again, rounds of auditions, competing against a whole new group of people straight from high school."

"No!" Finn sank down into a chair. He looked at Burt, stunned. "She can't throw that away. Not for me, I... I'm not worth it."

"Oh, she's going," Carole stated. "We managed to convince her that she couldn't do anything to help your recovery by staying here. But that was the only way it worked. Because there's something else you should know about Rachel, something I know about her because it's something we have in common." She looked pointedly at her son. "The fastest way to piss her off is to suggest, about anything, that you're not worth it."

Finn looked at the floor. "Well I sure don't feel worth much right now." He exhaled. "I know, I was an ass. Dinner turned into a minefield but I just couldn't stop asking questions that had no right answers." _I should call her. Now, before I talk myself out of it._ Finn pulled his phone out and called. It rang for what seemed like a small eternity, but was probably only a few times; then she answered, still sounding upset. "Hey, Rach..el, look like I said I'm really sorry... about all of tonight, how I reacted, everything," he said. "I don't want to be told things but I also do, I get that it's no-win."

"Are you free on Saturday? Please? I know that you're leaving in a week. Maybe we could go do something, with my family or whatever... Oh. Well I guess if that's important... okay, of course it's important. How about Sunday instead... great, Sunday, I'll figure something out and let you know. I really want to make this up to you. Please don't be upset, this was all my fault."

* * *

Later, in his room, Finn tried to figure out why he'd screwed things up so badly at dinner. He couldn't afford any more of that, she was leaving so soon, and he hated himself for how he'd hurt her. How did something that had been so great just two days before turn bad so quickly?

Maybe he'd trusted his subconscious, his instinct, too much; as soon as he'd reacted he'd simply gone with it. His subconscious was the only part of him that knew Rachel, or so he'd thought, so he didn't know how it got things so wrong. It certainly wanted her and knew how to be with her, at least physically, but it could apparently also be a bit of a jackass (at _least_ a bit). Though he shouldn't blame his subconscious, he'd told himself to drop it a few times and still hadn't. _Just being an idiot, I guess. But that doesn't help me know how to stop being one again. _He groaned. This whole mess just got harder. And he really had to stop doing things that hurt her, he couldn't take the pain in her eyes and voice, and the guilt in his heart.

Yeah, she'd forgive him almost anything, because she'd been in love with him for years. But screwup-apology-screwup-apology didn't make for a good relationship, too much time with both of them feeling like crap. He'd had that with Quinn, when he hadn't just done what she'd said, and honestly it had sucked.

He knew he'd been abusing his advantage with Rachel, that he didn't have to put much effort into convincing her to spend time with him because he knew she was his for the taking. If he'd really been trying to, well, _woo_ her, he'd've behaved better at dinner and not started acting like he was doing her a favor by spending time with her. He'd've gone after her now to convince her to take him back. He could tell on the phone that she'd been crying, but she'd still agreed to spend time with him on the weekend, without him needing to have a plan or offer anything except a lame apology. Hell, at dinner he'd been an ass and she'd still apologized to him at one point, tried to mend things after, and she'd been pretty accepting when he'd stuck his foot in it on the phone by acting that her last Sabbath dinner with her family might not be important. His 'other self' had given him the upper hand with her, so Finn knew he didn't have to try, but using it wasn't fair to her and wouldn't help things work out.

Even if it was vaguely familiar. Like he'd taken her for granted before. And pissed her off, maybe (_almost definitely, she sure knows how to storm off_).

_Hmm._

_I'll stop doing that,_ Finn decided. _On Sunday I'm going to treat her like a queen. She deserves it._

Though he did like how passionate she'd been when she'd stormed off. It was good to see her standing up for herself, and it was also really hot. He'd been kind of aroused watching her, which had only added to his frustration.

Meanwhile... he should try harder to recapture his memories and his feelings for her.

Finn picked up his iPod and started flicking through the songs with a fair amount of trepidation. Then he found the one he was looking for, put in his headphones, and took a deep breath before finally pressing 'Play'.

_Highway run, into the midnight sun  
wheels go round and round  
you're on my mind_

Finn listened to himself singing the opening to "Faithfully", hoping he'd remember something. Feel something, even, especially when Rachel came in with her part. But while he enjoyed the sound of her voice, and was more accepting of his own than he'd been before, all he could remember was how panicked he'd been when he'd accidentally heard it before. _Damn it. _Just like his shrink had warned him, that trying to force memories back too soon or too roughly could put in associations that made it harder to get the real ones back. He'd already stomped all over what might have been a really good trigger. He didn't even feel what he knew he should feel, listening to it, much less remember anything about singing it. And this was probably their make-out playlist, and he didn't feel any echoes of _that_ either.

He looked at his iPod with disgust, barely restraining the impulse to fling it across the room in his frustration. The case already had some damage, maybe he'd done that before.

So now what could he do? How could he reconnect with his memories without trying too hard and ruining things?

And how could he get those words of hers out of his head: _"assuming I ever get to talk to him again." _Yeah, he'd been out of line demanding that she tell him her secrets, but at the same time he hated thinking that he wasn't really that guy for her. He'd felt on Tuesday that they were connecting, and he really wanted her to be connecting to _him,_ who he was _now_, not just remembering and wishing the old him was there instead. He wanted to remember and be that guy again, sure, but he also wanted _her_ and hated feeling that he was doomed to fall short if he couldn't bring the old him back.

* * *

_A/N: The private joke about Rachel's diet is meant to be the one developed during Best Christmas Ever; there's no way Rachel is ever explaining it to anyone, even Finn.  
It can't be explained here either (this fic has a T rating), so I'll just say that it has to do with how restrictive veganism is (nothing from an animal source at all).  
_

_Please review!  
_


	18. a smile on the edge of sadness

_A/N: thank you for all the wonderful reviews! It's great to see new people finding this fic and also that you're connecting with the more existential angst involved. I hope you enjoy this next installment too._

* * *

Finn's plan for Sunday ended up being pretty simple: bring Rachel over, hang out, grill some burgers with the family. He was annoyed he couldn't come up with anything better, but finally decided that they could adjust it as they went, and that it wasn't what you did, it was how you did it. He didn't know what Rachel liked anyway, so he'd just watch her carefully and see how she reacted, and as long as they stayed at his place he could improvise. That would also help him learn more about what she was like.

So they'd keep it casual and fun. Which didn't stop him from being a lot less casual about it ahead of time, digging up information on what vegans ate (not a lot, it seemed, nothing from animals at all, though there were a lot of plant substitutes) and thinking about things they could do. Easier to improvise when you have ideas to work from, he figured. He even found some veggie burgers in the freezer (left over from a previous time) and tried them himself, finding them quite edible and even kinda tasty in their own way. And the soy cheese would probably taste fine if he didn't know that it wasn't the real thing, he knew he was pretty suggestible.

Friday night after dinner he talked to his mom more about what Rachel liked to eat and drink, then headed up to his room to look through some of his things. After a while he was interrupted by a knock at his open door, and he looked up to see his stepbrother.

"You're really taking this seriously, aren't you?" Kurt commented. "Having Rachel over."

"Yeah." Finn looked over at Kurt, who leaned in his doorway. "Why would you think I wouldn't?" Kurt shrugged with a frown in response. "Okay, I haven't been consistent," Finn admitted. "And I've been an ass, yeah I've been having trouble and the idea of her completely terrified me at first, and even so I dealt with it badly. But I'm trying to make up for it now."

"Just the fact that you're trying with this – that's going to mean the world to her," Kurt said. "You don't have to get things all the way right, you didn't before, not usually. She cares that you care, that's all that's really mattered to her when it came to you."

"Huh. I'm not used to it being like that, I suppose. With Quinn nothing I did was ever good enough."

"It's different when you're not popular," Kurt said. "When people treat you like everything you are is wrong, you learn to treasure genuine thoughtfulness and kindness." He shrugged. "Sometimes it really is the thought that counts."

Even though he'd never had to deal with unpopularity, Finn could still relate to that idea – he and his mom hadn't had much, as he grew up, and he'd always appreciated what little things they could have. He treasured his letterman jacket all the more because he'd had to save up to afford it. But just because Rachel wasn't as picky as Quinn didn't mean he shouldn't try just as hard to please her. It was worth trying even harder, actually, because it was much more likely to pay off. In anything except the one thing he couldn't give her. "Well I don't really know what she's going to like," he said, thinking, "except Mom told me the sort of stuff she's had here before. I figure I'll just pay a lot of attention and work it out as I go." _And maybe try some more stuff out myself,_ he thought. _It's still food, some of it should be good._

"She'll soak that up like a sponge. Rachel loves attention, especially from you."

Finn smiled. He could do that. "I'm trying to be careful, though, I don't want to get her hopes up but I don't want to kill them either. Plus I really don't know what's going on with my head."

"Still nothing coming back?" Kurt asked.

Finn shook his head. "Nothing I can remember. I can do stuff, sometimes. Subconscious. It's freaky, I just do stuff and don't really remember doing it. Even called a football play I don't know. But I still don't remember anything." He groaned, rubbing his face. "I don't know if I ever will," he admitted quietly.

"It still hasn't been that long," Kurt said hopefully.

"I guess. But how long does it normally take to remember things, when you wake up? Isn't it mostly right away? They don't understand why I don't remember, so there isn't really any kind of schedule for how long these things are supposed to take. They don't know what's going on or if there's really been any progress, instead of just more stuff I notice. And I feel fine, the tests are normal, they have been since they let me out, there's no reason why I don't remember." Finn's hands clenched into fists, his frustration returning as he talked about his situation. "_I just __**don't**__._"

"Hey, relax."

"I feel like I'm done relaxing for now." Finn exhaled sharply. "At least when I'm planning this I feel like I'm doing something."

"Anything I can do to help?" Kurt offered.

"Are you going to be here?"

"Can Blaine come? I leave Wednesday night, and he's taken time off work so we can be together this weekend."

"Ah, sure. They get along, right?"

"They get along brilliantly. Perfect distraction if things get too tense."

"Great."

"We'll try not to be too couple-y, though. Don't want to rub it in her face."

"Thanks." Finn swallowed. "You're going to take care of her, right? In New York?" He raised his eyes to meet Kurt's, hoping that his stepbrother would see how sincerely he meant it.

"Of course I will," Kurt said. "Even if you hadn't asked, but yes. And we'll be spending a lot of time together, we always meant to anyway, and we'll both be alone-but-not-single so that'll work. We'll be palling around and doing the New York things we've always wanted to do together, when we have time. NYADA will be intense."

"That's good." Finn paused. "Thanks, Kurt."

Kurt nodded. "So what are you doing now?" he asked, looking at the pile of clothes Finn had been digging through.

"Just trying to figure out what to wear, actually. It's hard, I don't normally give it much thought."

"Hmm." Kurt went to Finn's closet and started poking around. "Well, leaving aside the fact that I would throw most of this out, I'd say the more typically 'you' the better. And that hasn't changed, despite my efforts."

"There isn't, like, something I shouldn't wear because she'll associate it with some time we had together?"

"Probably. But I wouldn't know about those, she keeps that sort of thing private, for casual clothes anyway. She might think about what you were wearing at some key times but I have no idea. Just pick a decent-looking polo. You can always change if you think she's reacting badly to it." Kurt shook his head. "I can't believe I'm finally getting to give you wardrobe advice and that's the best I can do for the situation," he complained.

Finn laughed. "Well thanks for not taking advantage."

Kurt nodded to him with a smile, and left.

* * *

Mid-afternoon Sunday Finn went to pick Rachel up, managing for once to get to her door before she came out. He handed her a small bunch of multicolored daisies that he'd picked from the garden (with his mom's permission); he'd come up with the idea right before he left, an impulse, and while he had no idea if she would like them he hoped that effort and sincerity would see him through. He doubted he'd somehow become some ultra-suave dude, so this should be normal.

It paid off when she thanked him with a beaming smile, and she tucked one of the yellow daisies into her hair behind one ear. It didn't really go with her cream-and-cherry dress, he supposed, but she looked adorable anyway.

"You're so beautiful," he said softly as he helped her into the car. He wondered if she'd heard that enough, being unpopular at school would have carried with it insults, not compliments. He hoped that he'd told her a lot, anyway, and that she knew right now that he really did mean it. He looked at her again as he got into his seat, glad to see the delight on her face. And she was really so beautiful, in her own way.

They drove back to his place, talking a little. He asked after her weekend so far, but accepted the vague cheerful answers she gave; he knew she was getting ready to move to New York, and that neither of them really wanted to talk about it. At her prompting he told her a bit about what was happening at work, and that he was looking into taking a couple of community college courses in the fall, just to get him back into things and see what he could do. She seemed very happy at hearing that and said she was sure he could do well. So nothing deep, but comfortable. Finn felt good.

Back at his place he brought her straight into the back yard, bypassing the house. Kurt and Blaine were in Kurt's room, with Blaine supposedly helping Kurt pack, and it was probably not a good idea to disturb them until the food was ready. Rachel nodded as Finn explained that to her, and smiled as she took the glass of lemonade he offered.

Burt had started up the gas grill, and Finn made a bit of a show of asking Rachel for advice on how to cook the veggie burgers. Sure the others would have known, probably, but he wanted to do this himself. She explained that they were already cooked and heated quite quickly, so he should wait to put them on; they discussed it for a bit longer, building a quiet rapport as they talked, and decided that the veggie burgers should go on when the beef ones were flipped.

"And they should be kept separate, right?" Finn commented, happy that this was going well.

"That's best," Rachel replied. "But you don't need to be paranoid about it, it's just a personal choice, not an allergy. If a little meat rubs off it's not a disaster, as long as it gets cooked enough. I just don't want to get a taste for it."

"Right." Finn nodded and reached over for the spatula; his hand accidentally brushed Rachel's arm, and he felt a bit of a thrill go through him at the unexpected touch of her skin. So did she, he figured, because their eyes met for a brief moment before he lowered his head with a sheepish smile. Yeah, he could put up with some weird habits in a girl who so easily made him feel like that, as long as he didn't have to follow suit himself. And she wasn't that weird, just unusual, and he found himself rather liking 'unusual'. Certainly how she made him feel wasn't usual at all.

"I think you have things all set up, so I'll leave you to it," Rachel said, still smiling. "I'll see if your mother needs help in the kitchen." Finn nodded and watched her go.

"Everything okay?" Burt had wandered off to a discreet distance, but came back as Rachel left.

"Ah, yes," Finn replied. "She's just going to help Mom."

Burt grinned. "I meant with the grill."

Finn rolled his eyes at the obvious teasing. "That's fine too."

* * *

"How is he, really?" Rachel asked Carole, looking out at Finn as she finished washing the lettuce at the sink.

"He's feeling better, I think," Carole answered tentatively. "He feels more like himself. But he's getting very frustrated that his memories aren't coming back."

"I've been so worried," Rachel said softly, biting her lip. "And when I couldn't see him..." she trailed off.

Carole sighed and turned to her. "I am so very sorry about that, Rachel. I was worried about Finn, and overprotective – all I could think about is that I almost lost my baby boy, and how he'd had so much trouble getting used to our combined family before. I so wanted him to be comfortable at home, I shut you out and I shouldn't have."

Rachel nodded, temporarily unable to speak as she started to cry silently.

"Please forgive me, Rachel. How I acted was wrong." Carole looked sincerely at Rachel as the younger woman nodded again.

"Just please, please don't do anything like that again, Carole," Rachel stressed, finally finding her voice as tears slid down her cheeks. "I love Finn with all my heart, you know that. Even now, even if he never remembers, he's still the man I love. I have to go away, to school, but I need to know that you're not going to do anything to come between us while I'm gone."

"All I really care about is that Finn's happy," Carole said. "And I saw you two out there." She smiled. "This may be the first time I've seen him genuinely happy since the Fourth."

Rachel smiled a little through her tears. "I'm glad. I need Finn to be happy even more than I need Finn."

"Well if you're going to stick by him, then I have no reason or wish to get in your way."

"No ifs, Carole. Please, do not second-guess my place in Finn's life, or manipulate it for what you think might be going on or what you want." Rachel sniffled back more tears. "That's the only way I'm going to be able to trust you again, I can't trust you if you don't trust me."

"Well I didn't mean to manipulate things –" Carole started to protest, but cut herself off. "No, you're right. I didn't intend to and I'll do my best to make sure I don't. Finn's choices are his own, and if he needs help I'll include you."

"Thank you," Rachel said softly. But she stood with her head lowered, and Carole was still worried.

"Rachel? Is something else wrong?"

"What about you?" Rachel's reply was brittle, and she stared at the counter.

"Me?"

Rachel raised her tearstained face to look at Carole again. "I thought you were like my family," she said softly, barely breathing out the words. "I was welcomed here as family, before. And then..." She started to sob again, her mind reliving the pain at feeling so shut out, betrayed, with the woman she'd previously felt loved by now freezing her out, worse still that she'd been forced away from the side of the man she loved when he needed help and love so much, maybe to lose him forever.

Dimly she felt Carole's arms come around her, holding her tightly, her head brought to the older woman's shoulder. "You are," Carole said, starting to cry too. "I just... I was so worried, and I acted selfishly, I can't express how sorry I am. I didn't mean to be so cold to you, I was just focused on Finn. You are loved here, Rachel, very much."

Rachel nodded silently, and hugged Carole back. After a while the older woman pulled away and looked into her face.

"Let's get you cleaned up, honey. Don't want Finn to think it's something he did, he's really trying hard to not have that happen today."

* * *

Outside, Finn and Burt were looking after the grill, which largely meant standing around as things cooked, occasionally taking a look at the burgers and nodding sagely. The food was close to ready, but Rachel and Carole were still inside. "Do you think they need help?" Finn asked, looking at the house, concerned.

"I think the ladies have something to work out," Burt said. "They'll be back when they're done." Finn looked questioningly at his stepfather. "You're not the only one here who has to make something up to Rachel," Burt explained. "Your mom isn't wrong very often, almost never when it comes to how she treats people, but she went a bit blind when you got hurt." Burt moved the burgers up to the top level and turned the heat down. "These'll keep a bit if they have to."

Finn nodded, but was relieved a few minutes later when the other four came out, Kurt and Blaine followed by Carole and Rachel, who were walking close together and smiling as they carried out the salads. However things had been they seemed to be okay now.

"Grub's up," Burt called out, and the others headed for the patio table as Burt and Finn took the burgers from the grill.

"I thought Jews didn't eat cheeseburgers," Blaine commented as the burgers came over. Finn froze, panicking momentarily as he wondered if he'd been thinking so much about her veganism that he'd forgotten something else. Though hadn't she noticed he'd had the soy cheese sitting there for it? _How complicated should food really get? It's food._

But Rachel laughed. "Not _real_ cheeseburgers," she said, taking the plate that Finn was holding out to her, apparently not seeing the expression on his face. "But this isn't a real cheeseburger. There are some who would still object to it on principle, but that's too crazy even for me." Seeing that the others seemed to be waiting for her verdict, she took a small bite, chewed, and swallowed. "And this is delicious, thank you so much."

Finn passed the regular burgers around to the others and then was finally able to relax, congratulating himself on a job well done as he ate. The others expressed their appreciation as well.

Conversation went around generally, casually, about Blaine's plans for Glee Club in the fall, about how well Rachel's musical had gone, about the hard decisions Kurt was making in deciding what to take to New York, and so on. Finn mostly listened, enjoying the friendly atmosphere and that he didn't have to participate much, just listen, throw in the occasional comment as appropriate, and laugh along. It was an easy group to be with, today.

Seconds were available, but as Rachel was satisfied without, Finn opted to try the second burger he'd made for her. Not nearly as good as his first actual burger, obviously, but edible, especially once he put some more bbq sauce on it. And there was no sense it going to waste.

Finn found himself continuing to watch Rachel as she chatted with Kurt and Blaine, getting to know the tilt of her head, the way she smoothed her hair behind her ear, the soft curve of her neck, the naturally musical way she laughed, that glint in her eyes she got a moment before coming out with something clever. He started to feel _her_.

Soon it was time for dessert. Finn was particularly proud of what he'd found for that, and he fetched them from the freezer.

"Cherry-chocolate or vanilla?" he asked Rachel, showing her the two unmarked tubs of frozen dessert.

"Well, which is –"

"Both."

Rachel blinked. "Both?" she asked, a shy smile starting to spread.

"Yep. They're very good, that one is really chocolatey and I recommend it but you could have the other if you want." He tried to stay serious but couldn't completely suppress his grin; she was obviously genuinely happy at having multiple vegan options, and that he'd actually tried them. He'd sweet-talked the older lady that worked the ice cream counter at the fancy deli in the west Lima shopping district on Saturday, telling her he needed something vegan for his girl and laying the charm on pretty strong, and she'd let him sample everything that was non-dairy. He'd even picked up some fat-free for Burt while he was at it. The cherry-chocolate was really high-end, dark chocolate only of course, but it was so worth it right now.

Rachel's whole face lit up. "Well who am I to ignore a recommendation like that," she said. "Thank you."

He dished her out some and then took care of the others, and soon they were all enjoying dessert.

"This is very delicious, Finn," Rachel told him, casually licking her spoon. "Where ever did you get it?"

Finn grinned, stalling a little as he brought himself physically under control; the sight of her licking had gone straight to his groin. He met her eyes. "Secret," he said, teasing her a little. She wrinkled her nose, smiling back at him. "Hey, you can't expect me to give up one of the few things I know that you don't."

She laughed. "That's fair."

* * *

After a while Burt and Carole went inside, leaving the younger four on their own. It was early evening and still quite sunny, so when after a trip inside Finn spotted a frisbee by the back entrance, he brought it out with him. He thought it would be fun to throw it around a little, but when he came out he was quickly intercepted by his stepbrother.

"Don't," Kurt hissed at him, pulling the frisbee out of his hand.

"What? I thought we could play a little, have some fun. We had such a good time bowling, and it doesn't matter if she sucks or whatever." But Kurt took his arm, dragging him around the corner of the house. "What is it?"

"You didn't see her face just now, when you brought it out," Kurt said. "Some things are just far too close."

"What do you mean?"

Kurt pulled his phone out of his pocket and started flipping through it. "I know all the stuff you've said about not wanting to look at yourself, and I suppose I get it, but just look at her." He handed Finn his phone.

Finn took it and looked at the picture of Rachel, holding a frisbee and laughing. She looked beautiful, wearing a navy blue sundress with white stars, and really happy. He swiped his finger over the screen, moving to the next picture which showed her throwing, her form wasn't great but she obviously didn't care. "So she's having a great time," Finn said, confused. "What's the problem?"

"Her dress is very patriotic, don't you think?"

"She likes stars. What, is this the Fourth of July or something?" Almost as soon as Finn said it, he paled. _Just two days before the accident... _He moved to the next picture and saw himself next to her, both of them laughing over something, his arm around her. And the next, they were in the background of a shot of Blaine, but there they were embracing and leaning towards each other... he grimaced and handed the phone back to Kurt. "Yeah, okay, I get it."

"It's the last completely happy day she's had, at the time she said it was perfect. The barbeque is hard enough, she saw you bring out the frisbee and turned _white_."

"Damn," Finn breathed. Too familiar for her, but nothing he remembered at all. Unless that was somehow why he'd gone for the frisbee. "So what can I do? Is there, like, something else we can do instead, something new? Or something really old, something she won't associate with me."

Kurt didn't have anything in mind, so they went back around the corner to talk to the others about possible activities.

"Ever play badminton?" Blaine asked as they threw out ideas. "I think Brittany has a set, we could borrow it."

"I played a little when I was a kid," Rachel said. "It was fun, I haven't played in years but it should come back."

Finn shook his head. "Never played it, sorry. Never gone in for racket sports."

"Oh, is the big jock afraid he'll get shown up if he tries a sport he doesn't already know?" Kurt mocked lightly.

"No, just..." Finn frowned. "Okay, _fine_. I'll give it a try. But you all know my coordination sucks, especially when I'm new at something, so you might want to give me a wide berth so nobody gets hurt this time."

Kurt grinned, but his smile faded into a more thoughtful look. "How do you know we know that?"

"Ah, what?"

"'You all know my coordination sucks,' you said. And you're right, we do, though it improves with practice and it's a lot better than it was. But how do you know that we know?"

_Whoa._ "I don't know," Finn admitted. "Maybe I just figured you must know, since it's true and you know me."

"Maybe. But 'give me a wide berth so nobody gets hurt _this time_'? Have you ever hurt anyone?"

"No, I –" Finn broke off. He didn't know why he'd said that, and he remembered saying it. He'd meant it, somehow. But he was used to being teased about his lack of coordination, and that was one of the standard things. Right? "No. But someone could, y'know, if they get too close to big awkward me." He tried to ignore the looks that passed between the others.

Blaine brought them back on topic. "So, badminton. Seems okay, though none of us are dressed for anything strenuous so we'll take it easy. I'll talk to Brittany and see if she has a set we can borrow."

"Great, thanks," Finn said. They were trying to have a fun time, not worry about his memories, so he tried to shake it off. His comment had probably just been mostly automatic anyway, like calling that football play had been, and there would be no way to dig up where it had come from, even though he did remember saying it. But he didn't like the thought that at some point he really had hurt someone through his clumsiness, that it wasn't just a joke. And it was obvious they knew something.

Blaine quickly established that Brittany could lend them a set, and he and Kurt set off to get it.

As they waited for the others to return, Finn roamed the yard aimlessly, still feeling uneasy about what he'd said and where it might have come from. He looked over at where Rachel stood on the patio; she seemed bothered by something too, so he went over to talk to her.

"Hey," he said, approaching her. "Look, about what I said..." he saw her look back at him with a small frown. "I shouldn't find out any details, I guess, but I can't not know." He looked squarely at her. "Have I hurt someone? By accident, because I'm clumsy?"

"You're not really that clumsy," Rachel said quietly. "But yes, you did once. No permanent damage and nobody held it against you, so don't worry about that."

"Was it –" Finn broke off. "No, I shouldn't think about details, I'll just make stuff up," he muttered to himself.

"Doesn't that make it so much harder for you?" Rachel asked, concerned. "It's bad enough that you don't remember, but if you can't even find out..."

"Yes," Finn replied, grimacing. "Oh, yes." He exhaled. "It's a lot harder, it's like I live in a world I don't know and I can't even get to know it. But my shrink says if I get told too much I'll fill in the memories with versions I make up, and then that's it. Or I won't notice when I do start remembering because I won't know the difference." He tried to smile. "And maybe what I said, that I said it, means that the memory's there and I really need to not mess it up. But it's hard." His voice became very quiet. "Knowing that I hurt someone, I don't want to be a person who did that."

"It could have been anyone and anything," Rachel insisted. "You've done a lot of physical activities with others around. One _accident_ over all the years doesn't make you dangerous."

"I guess not," Finn said. "Thanks." _So that meant something. I don't know why I said it – but I remember saying it, even if it was subconscious it wasn't just that. And it's something she knows about, significant even._ He looked back at Rachel, who still seemed tense. "So what's wrong?" he asked. "I can tell something's still bothering you. If it's not that, is it still the other night?"

Rachel looked up at Finn, her eyes tearing up. "Yes, in a way," she said reluctantly.

"Look, I was being an idiot. I have a hard time dealing with change, so I found something I thought I knew turn out to be different and went nuts on it. Doubt it's the first time, probably won't be the last either, but I'm trying to do better. It's not a big deal."

"It's not that," she replied softly, hanging her head. "It's not you. You now, I mean."

"Then – me before? Old me?"

Rachel swallowed. "You – old you – never had any problems with my veganism," she said quietly. "Or at least I never thought so, you were always polite about it. But –" she sniffled. "What if I was wrong? What if it was a problem but you always hid it?"

Finn listened, and realized that he wasn't the only one who was potentially finding out things about the man he used to be. Rachel had been clinging to her memories of the man he'd been, the one she'd loved and who had loved her, and now _she_ was the one getting the rug pulled from under her about those times. He put his arm around her, a little unsure if he should be, but knowing that he needed to comfort her. Wasn't he also supposed to be her best friend? "Hey," he said. "You don't know that."

"No." Rachel leaned into his chest, her head still lowered. "But what you did today, with the dessert – of course I never expected everyone to eat vegan with me, but you never did anything like that before."

"Maybe I just never thought of it, or got to the point where I thought I should," Finn replied. He liked that he'd been able to surprise her like that and do better than the old him had. "And from what everyone's told me, when I confessed to what an idiot I'd been at dinner, I never had any problem with your diet aside from forgetting about it sometimes. Even Puck said that, and he thinks your diet is nuts and never understood why I didn't. So I think that means that it didn't bug me." Puck had also thrown in 'and the two of you sucked face so much that there's no way you had a problem with how each other tasted,' but he wasn't going to pass that particular comment on. Or explain his realization that part of his freakout had been feeling like she was judging him because Quinn would have, if Quinn had turned vegan he was quite sure she'd've expected him to do it too. Never tell your girl that you expected her to act like your ex.

"That's true. You did forget, sometimes. Even when we'd been together for a while, it still used to slip your mind."

"Well there you go. It didn't affect how I thought of you." He cleared his throat, as he'd been starting to choke up a little himself. "And I've started to get a feeling about the sort of things that I did have problems with, before – people get cautious and watch my reaction. This isn't one of them. Okay?"

Rachel raised her head and stepped back. "Okay." She looked up at him and gave him a tight smile.

"Good." Finn paused. "That thing about the bacon – did I know?" he asked hesitatingly.

"No, you didn't, it never came up," Rachel replied. "But if you'd known I liked the smell you might have figured out why. I certainly didn't intend to tell you, even before. Not because it was a secret or anything like that, just... to let you figure it out, I suppose. You would have enjoyed realizing it, I think." Her voice was wistful, and an expression quickly crossed her face – pain? longing? He couldn't quite tell.

"Sorry. Guess it's out now. For me, I mean, I wouldn't tell anyone, of course I wouldn't." Finn babbled a little. Because yeah, that would have been cool, or hot actually, figuring out that your vegan girlfriend likes smelling bacon because it makes her think about being with you... he liked it and he wasn't even the version of him it was about. And now he was realizing that her having that association must mean that they'd done it a lot, and that she'd really enjoyed their nights together and mornings after, and that this was what she'd just been thinking about, missing them, and..._ Oh hell._ He didn't remember anything like that. But he was quite sure those were memories he really didn't want to screw up accidentally, he definitely wanted those back. _Fuck._

He swallowed, trying to shunt those thoughts aside. He wanted her and she wanted him but the pieces didn't fit. He was attracted to her, starting to feel a connection; she was deeply in love with a man he'd forgotten how to be. "Someday, I hope," he mused, trying to ignore how frustrated he was that his memories weren't coming back, and instead stay hopeful that they would. "Someday I'll finish waking up from that coma and then I can take my life back." _I hope. And God how I want it so badly. It's hard to believe it though._

"Are you sure you would really want that?" Rachel could barely be heard, and she turned aside and sank down to sit on the bench seat of the patio table, facing out. She whispered something, but Finn couldn't make it out. He carefully sat down next to her.

"What was that?"

"Why did you forget me?" she whispered again.

"I forgot almost three years, it's not you, it's everything," he answered.

"You forgot almost exactly the time we've known each other," she said, tearing up. "Some nights I just can't take it, _why?_ Why couldn't you remember ten days more, a month? Ten days more and you'd remember me. You might be terrified of me, but you'd remember me. A month... a month and you'd love me, at least a little."

_Maybe I do anyway,_ Finn thought. "Crappy coincidence," he said.

"It seems too close for coincidence." She sniffled back tears. "Just – is there something, some deep subconscious part of you, that _wanted_ to forget me?" Rachel buried her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking.

_Want this? She thinks there's any part of me that could want __**this**__, being trapped like this, and about her, wanting her but blocked from being with her the way we'd want, cut off from my life and probably the best memories I've ever had?_ Finn wanted to rage at his self-betrayal, express the fury at himself he'd been burying. But he stopped himself as he heard Rachel sob. She needed him, whatever him he had to give her.

He let her cry a little, not sure what to say or do to help her put away her fears. She was right, the coincidence was a close one. But coincidences do happen. And his subconscious certainly didn't seem to want to forget her, not with the things it had done. He put his hand on her shoulder. "Hey," he said, waiting until she wiped her eyes and raised her face to look at him. "This subconscious that you think wanted to forget you, is that really the same one that knows about, uh, that spot?" He gestured to her neck and tried to look encouraging, while still blushing a little at his limited memory of their encounter. "'Cause in that case it's doing a really bad job of forgetting." _And you're not the only one lying awake some nights thinking about it._

Rachel looked back at him, sinking into his eyes. "I don't know," she said eventually.

"Well that's the one thing we do know my subconscious remembers." His eyes flickered to her neck, wondering where that spot was. He definitely hadn't been in conscious control of himself then. "It has its priorities, I guess," he said lightly. Rachel chuckled a little in response. "That's better," he said quietly. "Look, if there's one thing my shrink has hammered into what's left of my mind, it's not to jump to conclusions about what is and isn't true. Some memories are pieces, some come in big long chains, he says. Maybe –" he stopped, thinking. "Maybe I just reached the point where the chains ended, a big change that nothing before really goes into." His voice dropped. "Maybe if I had any of it I'd have all of it, all or nothing, that's why it's so close a match."

Rachel turned her face to his, full of fear and hope. "Do you think so?"

"I'm just guessing," he admitted. "But as half-baked guesses go, it's not a bad one." But Finn sighed inwardly. What he'd described to comfort Rachel might be true, but it still didn't help him consciously access or make use of his missing memories. He was happy that he'd been able to ease her fears, but he was still very frustrated with himself. He couldn't live his life on autopilot, and so much seemed to be missing. All those things he'd done during that time, the man he'd become and that Rachel loved – how could he be anything like him?

"Now you're worried," Rachel said softly, looking up into his face.

"I don't know what I'm going to do if I don't," Finn admitted. "If I don't remember. I feel stuck." He groaned. "Like I was supposed to have that time to make something of myself, and I did I guess, but now it's gone and I'm _stuck_."

"You're not stuck," Rachel replied. "There's so much you can do. I believe in you, Finn, I always have and I always will."

"You believe in who I _was_."

"No, in _you_," she insisted. "From the moment we met, I knew there was so much you could do. You're very talented and you're a natural leader, that's always been in you, none of that has changed. You've just forgotten how you started developing those talents, that's all. You can do it again if you need to, I know you can."

Finn looked back at her, sinking into her wide dark eyes that were so full of love and faith. Him before, him now, was he really all that different? Wasn't she right, whatever talents he had were still there, they'd always been there, just needing to be discovered. It was hard to believe he had that in him, but if she thought he was talented, she should know since she certainly was. And with someone like Rachel on his side, all that passion and determination, believing in him... maybe that was the difference. He lowered his head to her, breathing a quiet "thank you" before softly brushing his lips over hers.

She moved her mouth gently in response, kissing him back but still letting him set the pace. Slowly. Finn stayed present, feeling real and strong and so completely with her right then. He felt her hand in his hair, tasted her strawberry lip gloss and some sweetness that was simply _her_, reveled in the light tease of their lips together, and wished fervently that this was all there was. No forgotten past, no uncertain future, no wondering how he felt about her or how she felt about him as he was now, just the two of them in that moment.

They stayed like that, no idea for how long, until noise from the house told them that Kurt and Blaine had returned.


	19. shadows hide the play of light

_A/N: Note that this story is only consistent with canon up to "The Spanish Teacher" (largely to catch the engagement but miss the get-married-soon stuff that would freak out amnesiac Finn even more), so I'm picking and choosing a bit with respect to song significance after that. Rachel's NYADA audition was different, but her Nationals solo was the same._

_Much thanks as always for the reviews, and keep them coming!  
_

* * *

"Sounds like they're back," Finn said as he straightened with a sheepish smile. "Still want to play?"

"Sure," Rachel replied impishly. "A sport I may actually be better than you at, how can I resist?"

Finn chuckled, and he went to help Blaine set up the badminton net.

First to play were Blaine and Rachel, since they'd both played before, and after their demonstration Finn and Kurt gave it a try. Success was mixed, but they had a good sense of humor about it so it was fun.

They then paired up for doubles: Rachel and Finn versus Blaine and Kurt. The two boys had the edge on skill, largely due to Blaine, but Rachel and Finn soon found that they had a different advantage; with small Rachel handling the shots close to the net and Finn using his size to cover the larger range behind, they had an easier time working together without getting in the way of each other. After a while Finn found it felt pretty natural.

Not so natural was paying attention to the game, with Rachel moving around in front of him in her cute and rather short sundress, sometimes even _bending down_ to pick up the birdie. He stayed well back of her for reasons of the game and out of concern for potential accidents, but also because sometimes it was all he could do to stop himself from just grabbing hold of her. God, she was hot. And his, kind of, but not, and he wanted her but shouldn't do those things with her unless he really loved her... _fuck_. At least he could bring out the mailman memory, using the remembered panic to kill his growing arousal as his body craved her, realizing only too late that he was letting a shot from Blaine go straight past him.

Kurt stared at him, puzzled, but from behind Kurt Blaine gave a knowing smile.

"Hey Kurt," Blaine said. "How about I take you on, not that I don't appreciate the view I have but I'd like to see your face a little more."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "And here I was going to propose we switch positions." He looked back at Blaine, who waggled his eyebrows suggestively, causing the others to crack up. Kurt smiled. "Fine, you're on."

Finn walked back to the table and sat down. "It's good to take a break," Rachel said, sitting down next to him. "I don't know about you, but I was getting pretty hot, moving around like that."

"Yeah," Finn blurted out, caught by surprise as her words so closely matched his thoughts about her, then quickly covered. "Uh, yeah, me too." They hadn't talked about their kiss, and Finn was trying not to; he didn't know what it could mean aside from that he wanted her, and that she was willing to follow his lead at least that much. It was dangerous to try to label it at this point, he didn't know how he felt, and between his subconscious and her potential frustration neither of them could really be trusted to stop things if they went too far. He was glad he'd been able to stop himself, that day in her room; whether she might want it at the time or not, he figured she really wouldn't want him to be with her in that way until he remembered, and she certainly deserved better than him trying some sort of experiment or pushing it just because he could. But every time he kissed her he wanted to do it again, the barest touch of her lips was intoxicating and addictive.

The game between Blaine and Kurt was quickly deteriorating. The wind was gusting strongly along the net, and pretty soon the shots were landing so far off course that both players couldn't do anything except laugh.

"I think that's enough, Kurt," Blaine said. "We can't do anything in this wind."

Kurt looked over to where dark clouds were rapidly blowing in. "It looks like rain anyway. Probably a thunderstorm, it's been so humid."

"Let's get this stuff away," Finn put in, getting up and striding to the net. They took it down quickly and just managed to finish rolling it up when the thunder rolled and rain started pelting down. All four of them ran for the house, carrying the equipment inside with them.

* * *

Once inside they joined Carole and Burt in the living room and tried to decide what to do next. Burt suggested they watch a movie, but Finn took a quick look around at the other couples – Kurt on the floor leaning back against Blaine's legs, his mom and Burt next to each other on the couch – and vetoed it, thinking it too intimate. Not that he was against the idea of having his arms around Rachel while they watched a movie, far from it, and she was so tiny she could probably snuggle into his lap on the armchair, but he didn't want to feel like it was expected, of either of them. And it would be awkward either way, whether they did or didn't.

"Hey Judy," Blaine said, looking over at Rachel, who had insisted on perching on the ottoman. "How about we put on a show?"

Rachel giggled. "Well Mickey," she replied, matching his arch tone, "why don't you show us how?"

Burt looked questioningly at Carole. "Judy Garland and Mickey Rooney," she explained. "They did a set of kids-put-on-a-show movies way back when."

"Though it's much harder to put on an actual show," Kurt stated.

"But we can try a little impromptu entertainment, it's nothing we haven't done before," Blaine said. He got up. "If my duet partner will join me?" he continued, holding his hand down to Kurt.

"I would be honored." Kurt let Blaine help him up, and they conferred quickly before going to stand together in front of the TV.

Blaine started: (*)

_Let the drums roll out  
Let the trumpet call  
While the people shout  
Strike up the band_

Kurt sang the next verse:

_Hear the cymbals ring  
Callin' one and all  
To the martial swing,  
Strike up the band_

They continued on singing together, occasionally alternating lines, nodding to each other for cues. Finn was getting into it; it wasn't his kind of song, but the peppy upbeat music was contagious and he started tapping his foot along to the obvious rhythm. Unfortunately his drums were up in his room.

_There is work to be done, to be done  
There's a war to be won, to be won  
Come, you son of a son of a gun,  
Take your stand_

_Fall in line, yea a bow  
Come along, let's go  
Hey, leader, strike up the band!_

The pair struck a finishing pose, and the others applauded. Blaine turned to Rachel as he returned to his seat. "Your turn now, 'Judy'."

"I -" Rachel froze suddenly, looking at Finn. "I don't know," she responded, turning back to Blaine.

Blaine gave her a comedically exaggerated nonplussed look. "Have you forgotten how to sing?" he asked. He looked inquiringly at Carole. "Is this amnesia stuff supposed to be contagious? 'Cause that's going to cause problems when she gets to NYADA."

Finn chuckled. Strangely, he didn't mind jokes about his memory loss, not friendly ones like that. It was only the serious stuff that was hard to take.

Rachel smiled too. "No, I'm just not sure what," she replied.

"Come on, Rachel," Finn cajoled, thinking that this was a great opportunity to hear her sing again. She had an amazing voice, and who knows, it might even help him remember something. "You must have lots of songs you know, that you've performed. Didn't you have a solo at Nationals? Puck told me you did."

Kurt coughed. "Not that one," he muttered.

"That's probably not a good idea," Rachel said, paling.

"What, why?" But Finn frowned at himself. _I'm doing it again, insisting on being told when maybe I shouldn't be. And pushing her._ "It's okay, I don't need to know," he corrected himself.

"No, it's all right – but I agree with Kurt, you'd probably be very uncomfortable with it and I would be too," Rachel said. "I sang 'It's All Coming Back to Me Now' at Nationals."

Finn grimaced. "Yeah, okay, thanks." _Overwrought song about remembering, no thank you._

"And most of the songs I've done in Glee over the years had something to do with you," she continued. "Even when we weren't together. Make that _especially_ when we weren't together. Kind of heavy stuff for a party."

_Those might help bring memories back or might replace them, no way to know_, Finn thought. _They __would pressure me and stress her, and I don't want to stress her out. Let's just relax. _"Right," he said, agreeing that it was probably best not to force anything out right then. It's not like he knew any way of bringing a conscious memory back, so far nothing had worked for that. He was starting to despair of it ever happening, maybe feelings and subconscious stuff was all he was going to get and he was just going to have to deal with that. "But you've been singing your whole life, you can't tell me that there's nothing from before, something you could just come out with."

Kurt smiled at her. "Like something you've been working on since you were four?" he asked her with a knowing look.

Rachel blushed. "Well there is that."

"Then..." Finn gave her his best encouraging smile. "Please?"

Rachel smiled involuntarily in response, a grin she couldn't repress. "Are you sure you're not remembering something?" she teased him back. "Because that dimpled 'please, do it for me' smile looks very familiar."

Carole laughed. "That's because he's a Hudson, Rachel, Finn's had versions of that since he was two. It's far too effective for him to ever stop."

Finn laughed at this teasing, blushing a bit himself. But he soon resumed giving her that smile. "Well?"

"Who am I to resist _that_," Rachel replied. "And this song has so many associations for me there's no way to pick just one. Today it's probably the weather." She pursed her lips, then gave Finn a big smile. "All right. I did perform this song for Glee once, in competition, but the rest of the club was offstage." She went to stand at the front, smiled around at everyone, and started to sing: (**)

_Don't tell me not to live, just sit and putter  
Life's candy and the sun's a ball of butter  
Don't bring around a cloud to rain on my parade!  
Don't tell me not to fly, I've simply got to  
If someone takes a spill, it's me and not you  
Who told you you're allowed to rain on my parade!_

She gestured overdramatically at the window where the rain still blew, a self-mocking smile on her face. She came closer to them, starting with where Blaine sat with Kurt at his feet.

_I'll march my band out, I'll beat my drum  
And if I'm fanned out  
Your turn at bat, sir, at least I didn't fake it  
Hat, sir  
_she sat on the couch arm next to Burt, tapped his baseball cap, and moved on.  
_I guess I didn't make it_

_But whether I'm the rose of sheer perfection  
_She sat on the other couch arm, next to Carole, and gestured at her with a smile, winning her a laugh from Carole and a grin from Burt.

_Or freckle on the nose of life's complexion  
_She shifted over to the arm of the chair where Finn sat and softly touched his freckled cheek, for the merest moment.

Then she turned to face them all again and stepped back.

_The cinder or the shiny apple of its eye  
I gotta fly once, I gotta try once, only can die once, right, sir?  
Ooh, life is juicy, juicy, and you see I gotta have my bite, sir!_

_Get ready for me love, 'cause I'm a comer  
I simply gotta march, my heart's a drummer_

Her eyes looked penetratingly at Finn, her expression passionate, and he saw a flicker of longing as her facade momentarily vanished. But she pulled herself back together quickly, and continued without missing a beat.

_Don't bring around a cloud to rain on my parade!_

Her energy increased, both her speed and singing, and Finn could feel all the passion she was putting into it. She may have sung this a lot, since she was four they'd said, but the Rachel he could feel through the song was her, right now, her coiled need and frustration finding an outlet through it. Like drumming was for him, he figured. And as always when Rachel sang: Wow.

_I'm gonna live and live now  
Get what I want, I know how_

Her face was tense, giving the lie to the words.

_One roll for the whole shebang  
One throw, that bell will go clang  
Eye on the target and wham  
One shot, one gun shot, and BAM  
Hey, Mister Arnstein, here I am!_

She looked Finn straight in the eye, and her energy level rose _again_. God knows where she was getting all this from, she was so small but her energy engulfed the room. And this girl, this incredible powerhouse, she'd told him how she believed in _him_. He didn't know how he could be worthy, especially with the last three years gone from his memories, but he certainly wanted to be. He couldn't tear his eyes from her, he could barely even blink.

_I'll march my band out, I will beat my drum  
And if I'm fanned out  
Your turn at bat, sir, at least I didn't fake it  
Hat, sir, I guess I didn't make it  
Get ready for me, love, 'cause I'm a comer  
I simply gotta march, my heart's a drummer  
Nobody, no, nobody  
Is gonna rain  
On my parade!_

She finished with her head tossed back and arms wide, her eyes closed, her final note echoing in the small room. Then she lowered her head, breathing hard, and gave them a shy smile.

"Wow, I – " Finn rose to his feet and started clapping, giving her a big smile as the others joined him.

Rachel beamed and gave a small curtsy. "Thank you."

"Well I'm not following that," Blaine said. "That's why these things are called showstoppers, right?" He came over to give her a hug.

Rachel smiled at his compliment. "Well it wasn't before."

"It wasn't allowed to be before," Kurt put in. "But after that you could at least use a break. And I do need to ask you about something I was thinking about bringing to New York, no sense in our duplicating things too much."

"Yes, you should show her," Blaine said. "You have it all ready so it won't take long."

Rachel followed Kurt and Blaine to the stairs. "You mean you two were really packing earlier?" she teased, and the others laughed, though Kurt grumbled a bit as they went to his room. The others, Finn, Carole and Burt, smiled as they watched them go.

"Well that was incredible," Burt said. "But I could really go for a change of pace right now, so while the Broadway enthusiasts are out of the room let's switch it up a little," he suggested. "How about some classic rock?"

"Yeah," Finn said. "Like... the Stones."

"Good choice." Burt went to his stack of CDs and pulled out _Let it Bleed_. "This?"

"Sure."

The strains of "Gimme Shelter" soon filled the living room. A few moments later Kurt hurriedly came back, and looked in to see his father next to the stereo.

"Did you put that on, Dad?" Kurt asked, sounding oddly tense.

"Yes I did," Burt nodded. "Is there some problem with listening to the Stones for a while?"

"No, no problem, just... curious." He looked back up the stairs to where Rachel and Blaine were following him down, and he shrugged. All three of them slowly came back to the living room and sat down. There didn't seem to be a problem, though, as they were clearly enjoying the music.

The album played on, next starting the slow "Love in Vain".

"Could we skip this one?" Rachel asked, frowning.

"I guess we could, why?" Burt responded.

Finn wasn't a big fan of the sound either, and cringed when he saw the title display. "It is kind of dragging," he said. "Let's just keep it loose, we're better that way."

"Okay." Burt grabbed the stereo remote and forwarded to the next song.

"Thank you," Rachel said, her manner easing.

They listened to the rest of the album, finishing with the final track, "You Can't Always Get What You Want". Finn smiled, enjoying this song particularly and hoping for what its words could mean to him right now. He certainly wasn't getting what he wanted, not even close, but just maybe he might get what he needed anyway. Whatever that was. He closed his eyes and started to sing along a little, enjoying being part of the song, and he heard Rachel join in with him. He thought he heard Blaine too for a moment, but then it was just himself and Rachel (and Mick), and he liked that. He opened his eyes as the song ended.

Blaine turned to Finn. "Sounds like you haven't forgotten how to sing either. Got anything for us?"

"Uh..." Finn tensed as he was put on the spot. Truthfully, there was a song in his head right now, but he didn't think it was appropriate to sing it, especially not in front of Rachel – he didn't know why it came to mind, but its message seemed all wrong for her. And singing along with a CD was one thing, doing it on his own was something else. Sure he'd been told he'd gotten used to people listening to him sing, and the idea was cool actually, but he wasn't comfortable with it. Maybe he could get back into it, sometime.

"I think he just did," Rachel put in, giving Blaine a pointed glance and then smiling at Finn. "It's so good to hear you sing again, Finn."

"Ah... thanks," Finn responded, blushing a little. "Not exactly your quality, obviously." Though he'd like to think they had sounded good together.

"Don't sell yourself short. I've been doing it a lot longer," Rachel stated. "And a _lot_ more intensely," she added with a small roll of her eyes. "If you enjoy it, don't stop yourself."

He smiled back, a little sheepish. "Okay. Thanks."

Blaine yawned theatrically. "Well it's getting late, and I need to hit the road," he said. "It's been great, thank you for having me." He rose and went into the front hall, trailed by Kurt as they went to say a more private goodbye.

"I guess I need to get you home," Finn said to Rachel.

"Blaine could, you know."

"Take my guest home? Uh-uh. I pick up and I drop off, it's all part of the Finn Hudson service."

Rachel beamed. "And it's an excellent service, I give it five stars. Out of five, of course."

"You would know stars." Finn was rewarded by a giggle from Rachel. They stalled a little longer until they heard the front door close.

"You can stop staying out of the way now," Kurt called out from the hall. The four of them laughed and left the living room. Rachel said her goodbyes to Carole and Burt, gave Kurt a hug, and let Finn escort her out to the car.

* * *

"I'm not normally that reluctant to sing," Rachel told Finn as he drove her back home. "Not reluctant at all, actually, usually it's almost impossible to stop me."

"Just too many memories, huh?" Finn responded, glancing at her briefly before returning his eyes to the road.

Rachel nodded. "Yes. I wasn't expecting it, I suppose I should have once Blaine started with the idea, but when it came to my turn I came up blank. Other than songs that seemed too serious."

"Well if I do get my memories back I'd like to remember the previous times, so maybe it's just as well you didn't sing them again," Finn said.

"That's the problem you're worried about," Rachel commented. "That you'll confabulate, or get the memories confused."

"Yeah." Finn exhaled slowly. "I kinda hoped I'd've remembered the previous time I heard you sing that one," he admitted. "I did hear it before, right?"

"Yes," she replied. "From me, at our first Glee competition. And a lot more times from Barbra Streisand, she sings it in my favorite movie and I'm a bit obsessed."

"Huh."

"Nothing?"

"No, sorry." Finn sighed morosely. _Damn._ He tried to brighten the mood. "I did really like singing with you," he said. "I guess we've done that a lot, right?"

"Yes. Proven harmonies." She seemed to want to continue and say something else, but stopped.

"Must be all you, since I didn't know what I was doing."

"Not all me. You really are quite good."

Finn snorted. "I guess I'll have to believe you on that one."

"Of course." Rachel smiled. "I should know."

"Uh... yeah." That's what he'd been thinking earlier.

They went on for a while longer in silence, then Rachel spoke again. "Today was rather wonderful, Finn. Even without remembering me you set things up so well, and I appreciate how hard you tried."

"You deserve it," Finn said quietly. "I may not have seen it right away, but – you're really special." He looked at her again, a longer glance, their eyes briefly meeting.

"So are you," she replied. "Even if you think you're not, I know you are."

Finn exhaled. "Well then sometimes being special sucks."

Rachel chuckled ruefully. "It can. But not always. And it can be really wonderful."

_Like you_, Finn thought. But now he had another dilemma. He was starting to get used to those.

Doing previously familiar things with Rachel could help trigger memories, or so the shrink said, if he could relax while doing them. But relaxing was very difficult; anything that might be reliving their past was also majorly stressful for both of them, and he was getting really frustrated that nothing had worked so far. He was starting to think his memory was never coming back, not consciously. Sure, it was way too early to write this off, he supposed, but it was so hard to believe otherwise when he still remembered _nothing_. If anything, accessing things subconsciously was worse than being completely blocked, he wasn't sure he could really function properly as an actual person when phrases would come out of his mouth that he didn't understand and he didn't know what he might do next, and the split between what he wanted and what he remembered was disorienting.

On the other hand, being casual and fun around Rachel was great. When they both relaxed, they had a really fantastic time, they were happy, and he started feeling connected to her. But it was a lot easier to do that if it wasn't something they were potentially reliving.

Rachel was leaving on Friday, first thing. Did he want to try to recapture memories that looked like they might be walled off forever, or develop his feelings, that sense of connection? He didn't have very much time left, and if he screwed up again at the wrong time she could be leaving on a really bad note, which was the last thing he wanted.

_So don't screw up_, he told himself. _Keep it fun. _And who knows, maybe he could be that guy she loved even if he couldn't remember being him before.

They'd arrived at Rachel's house, so it was now or never. Or at least 'now' or 'let her go without letting her know you want to see her again', which would suck almost as much as 'never'.

"Have you ever been to the county fair?" Finn asked, looking at her speculatively.

"No, never," Rachel replied. "It's not really my sort of thing."

"Yeah, that's what I figured." He flashed her a small grin. "Want to go anyway?"

"Finn!" But she was smiling, which was a start. "As far as I know it's not really your sort of thing either."

"It's not, at least not more than just a thing to hang out at, I'm not interested in seeing someone's prize pigs or anything like that, and I know you're not since you're vegan. We can stay away from the animals. But I just figured, if you've never been at all, then there's no tension around it, right? We can go and just... look at stuff. Be silly, I guess. Forget about you and me and the past and all that, just hang out like we did at bowling, 'cause that was great. And since you're heading to New York, it seems a shame to leave Lima and have never gone."

"And here I was thinking I was managing to escape it."

"Then you'd never know what you were missing," Finn teased. "Come on, we could go Tuesday evening. And they use vegetable oil for the fries, at least they did the last time I went, so there'll be something you can eat, even if it's still not that good for you." Finn was being very earnest, and won a laugh from Rachel. "Is that a yes?"

She nodded. "That's a yes." She smiled. "I like it that you want to be silly. So when did you last go?"

"A couple of months ago," Finn said. "That's what it feels like, anyway, just before sophomore year. Quinn made me go watch the cheerleading competition but once the Cheerios were done I met up with Puck to watch the demolition derby."

Rachel paled. "Would we see that?"

"No, I -" Finn looked carefully at Rachel, who seemed suddenly panic-stricken. "It's mostly a weekend event, and I didn't think you'd be interested in watching things smash."

"No," she breathed, trying to recover.

"You're more than not interested, though." He put his hand on her arm. "You okay?"

Her breathing eased, and she looked up at him with a forced smile, nodding. "Just – bad memories."

"I thought I was the one with the bad memory here," Finn joked, and was rewarded by a small laugh.

"True," she said. "And that's why you don't know, because you don't remember the accident."

_Oh. Right._ "No," he said. "But yeah, I can see why you wouldn't be interested in watching car crashes."

"Or hearing them, the sound –" Rachel shuddered.

"So we'll stay clear of anything like that," Finn stated. He swallowed. "You know, from what I've been told, you handled it really well when it happened," he said softly. "Actually, from what I can tell, handling stuff is something you do really well, even if you don't think you do."

"So do you," she said. "Even if you don't remember it." She sighed, but it was a more happy sigh. "I've had a lovely time tonight, Finn," she said, "and I'm so glad we talked about those things. I'm sure Tuesday will be fun. See you then." She quickly leaned over to him and gave him a light kiss, her hand touching his jaw as she softly pressed her lips against his. "Goodnight." With that she headed into her house.

Finn smiled to himself as he watched her go. _Much better, good going tonight_, he told himself. But once she was out of sight he exhaled slowly, feeling the frustration return. He'd made the right choice, he was sure, in going for the 'fun' date over the 'meaningful' date, it was much less likely to blow up in his face, but it did mean no chance of progress. And then that was it, by the end of the week she'd be in New York and he'd be still here with his head full of holes, his new normal. Special, huh? Yeah, it sure sucked to be that kind of special.

* * *

Back at the Hudson-Hummel house, Burt and Kurt were talking quietly in the living room as Carole put things away in the kitchen.

"What was that bit about the music before, anyway?" Burt asked. "You looked really concerned that we'd put something on."

"Not really."

"We just wanted a change of pace, that's okay right?"

"Of course." Kurt paused. "'We'?"

"Yeah, me and Finn."

"Dad... who suggested that particular music?" Kurt asked pointedly.

Burt frowned. "It matters?"

"It might."

"Well," Burt said, thinking back, "it was really a joint thing. I suggested we change it up and put on some classic rock, Finn suggested the Stones and I dug the album out." He looked back at Kurt, who was staring at him. "Why?"

Kurt swallowed. "That song Rachel sang."

"Yeah, what about it? She performed it once for your Glee club, right?"

"Yes. She opened our first sectionals with it, the one where our setlist was copied and we had to improvise. Nobody can solo on the fly quite like Rachel. But Dad... the next song we did was the Rolling Stones, 'You Can't Always Get What You Want'."

"The number you said Finn showed up with to save your asses. That was it. The same one he was singing along to tonight." Burt leaned forward and stared back at Kurt, stunned.

"Yes."

"_Shit._ Sorry." Burt thought for a moment. "It could just be a coincidence."

"I know. But it might not be. And we can't ask Finn, if he's relaxed and things are starting to come back, even like that, we don't want to tense him up and have that get in the way."

"Yeah." Burt frowned. "Was that why you stopped Blaine from singing with him? I saw that nudge."

"Partly. Mostly I just wanted to let Rachel have it, she misses singing with Finn. But I had hopes. And I know she did too, you saw the look on her face."

"Well we just have to keep supporting him and watch out for stuff like that, that's all we can do."

* * *

Finn drove home, happy about his plans to go to the fair with Rachel, but still tense with holding back his frustration with himself. He felt so trapped by the broken connections in his head that left him with just enough to want and not enough to make it real.

The same song he'd been thinking of before was still going around in his head. He found a bit of it that seemed more appropriate for him, something to believe in, to cling to and help shore up his hope, and he started to sing out: (***)

_got no feel, I got no rhythm  
I just keep losing my beat_

His voice sounded good, and he felt better to express himself like that. He wished Rachel was singing with him, though. She should be, like she had earlier.

_I'm ok, I'm alright  
ain't gonna face no defeat  
I just gotta get out of this prison cell  
someday I'm gonna be free, Lord!_

Someday... he hoped, twisted inside by frustration. Please.

_Can anybody find me..._

_Somebody to love_, he thought as he stopped singing. _She's right there, I don't need to find her. I need to find __**me**__. Can anybody find me?_ He snorted wryly at himself. Then, the song exorcised from his head, he drove on in silence.

* * *

* "_Strike Up the Band", from Strike Up the Band, lyrics by Ira Gershwin.  
_** "_Don't Rain On My Parade", from Funny Girl, lyrics by Bob Merrill.  
_*** "_Somebody to Love", as performed by Queen, lyrics by Freddie Mercury._


	20. the lens between wishes and fact

_A/N: since I have no experience of the Allen County Fair in Lima, I have used my own apparently typical local fair and exhibition as a model._  
_Much thanks for all the reviews, especially from new readers! Welcome aboard the angst slow train._

* * *

Monday morning Finn was back at the shrink's office, spending most of his hour giving the doctor a rundown on his week. Belhaven was particularly interested in the night before, when he'd been singing; it was a good sign that Finn was starting to naturally feel like doing things he'd been active in during the time he'd forgotten, and he was encouraged to do more whenever he felt like it. Formerly familiar activities were good, Finn was told. But relax and don't think about them. And don't let the subconscious take over.

The doctor seemed to ignore the apparent impossibility of putting all three of those aspects together, and Finn felt as if someone was yelling at him to "Relax!". It didn't seem like he could follow all that at once, to do those things deliberately but not think about it too much, like there was a very fine line he should walk on. But he'd try, keep his eyes open for something he felt like doing that might fit. And he wouldn't mind getting 'back' into singing.

Finn left with a final injunction from his shrink to not be too impatient; memories could behave strangely, and sometimes it could be hard to tell when a memory was from. The fact that he'd moved and had new relationships should help there, since parts of his life were so different it should be somewhat easier to tell memories apart. He should try to explore his memories a bit, expand out from them to see if he could remember where he was, what he'd been doing, who he was with, or other things that could help him pin down the context and time. It was easy to remember without realizing it, he was told, and he needed to be less tense about the fact that no memories seemed to be coming back.

But Finn grumbled about these instructions as he drove home. _Easy for him to say I should be patient, he's not the one who's forgotten being engaged to a girl who's leaving town first thing Friday._ All he really wanted now was a memory of Rachel.

* * *

Since he still didn't remember Rachel from before, Finn wanted even more to enjoy time with her now, but he was down to just one night, Tuesday. He picked her up at five to go to the county fair.

She looked so pretty, wearing a pink spaghetti-strap sundress sprinkled with small white dots, her hair falling in a smooth shine down her back. When she asked, he reassured her that it was just fine to wear to the fair, quelling his body's impulses to do something else entirely. The high neckline left her shoulders otherwise bare, and she smelled wonderful.

First stop at the fair was food. Finn lined up for a couple of plates of fries, the thin spiraly kind made by spinning a potato into a blade; they still used vegetable oil, so they were fine for Rachel. The pizza people made one without meat and left off the cheese for them when they asked. Finally Finn came back to their seats with something that was just for him, a tray of three corn dogs.

"You're probably going to find this pretty disgusting," he warned Rachel with a grin, "but these things are great. I can't go to the fair without having some." Rachel just smiled at him and kept eating the fries; he was glad he'd gotten two plates of them because she'd had most of one. Guess even vegans got hungry. And the corn dogs were great. Just as well she wasn't eating those, though, as his brief mental image of Rachel with a corn dog went straight to his groin. Finn thought cold thoughts and finished his food as she chatted about food substitutes and how someone had invented vegan corn dogs, though when he commented that this seemed pointless she laughed and agreed.

"I'm sure there's much tastier ways to eat vegan than that," Finn explained. "If someone really wants a corn dog they should just have one, or if they want to eat something else they should have that."

"Of course," Rachel agreed. "But there are people who come up with substitutes for everything, it's the principle of it."

"Seems like a lot of work for something pretty basic. Just find something you like and eat it."

Rachel laughed. "It's not a principle unless you're willing to put excessive effort into it."

Now that they'd eaten, they took a look around the fairgrounds. As promised, they skipped the animal pens, but they did take a look through the exhibit hall at the various crafts and garden competition exhibits. There wasn't anything here either of them cared about, which made it easier to just look around and talk a little about what things they liked best or joke about what some things looked like.

But then they were looking at the quilts, and there was a large one they both liked the looks of (not the big prizewinner, the second place one was less fussy and they liked it better), and Rachel suddenly became a lot more distant. Finn gave her a quick glance, realizing something was wrong, and walked with her away from that exhibit since it was obvious she wanted to go. And then mentally kicked himself for not realizing that they'd just essentially picked out a quilt together and of course it would upset her because they should have been doing it for real.

They needed a change of focus, fast, so he wandered into the food exhibits with her and asked her what her favorite kind of jam was. She countered by asking him to guess, and her smile returned when 'strawberry' turned out to be right. And this led to her pointing out the various visual features of a good strawberry jam, and agreeing with the judges about their selection of the prize winners.

Finn just shrugged at this. "All I really care about is how it tastes," he said nonchalantly.

"If it looks good it usually tastes good too, you can tell a lot about a jam by the state of the fruit." Rachel continued her light lecture on jam as they walked along the aisle, and Finn chuckled to himself; she really was intense about everything. But he found he rather liked it, and hey, nothing wrong with finding out about good jam.

They reached the end of the preserves, and turned into the baking aisle. "So you never entered your cookies here, huh?" Finn asked Rachel. "I bet you'd win if you did."

Rachel smiled. "Would you believe that's not the first time you've said that?"

"Really?" Finn glanced at Rachel, who still seemed relaxed. He was amazed at how resilient she was. "So why didn't you?"

"You soon decided that it was a bad idea."

"Huh." He looked at the entries again, at the baking drying up under the exhibit lights. "Well it is a waste, giving some to the judges and then having the rest sit around like this."

Rachel laughed. "And that was why. Something like that anyway, more like how you wanted to keep them all to yourself."

"Yeah, I can see doing that. And when it comes to cookies I'm an expert, so you don't need those other judges."

"I never thought I did. And I didn't make them for bake sales any more either, at least they never got that far, so that's why Kurt didn't know I used to."

"'Never got that far'?" Finn grinned. "As in, 'why don't I just eat them now, I'll make a donation?'"

Rachel giggled. "Pretty much. Even when I made more, you always had first dibs." She gave him a quiet smile. "Still do."

Finn's insides gave a lurch, and he was sure that wasn't because they'd been discussing food. He squelched his impulse to kiss her as being inappropriate, at least for now. Though as they walked back through the exhibits and out through the open hall entrance, their hands brushed and it seemed so natural to take hold, their fingers interlacing.

Once back outside, Finn led Rachel back to the games area, planning to win her something.

"Hudson!" A shout from the left drew their attention, and he saw a familiar red mullet: Rick Nelson, who he remembered as a new star on the McKinley hockey team. They'd had a bit of a hockey/football rivalry developing.

Finn turned, Rachel moving with him as their hands stayed clasped together. "Hey Nelson," he said, looking at his mocking expression and challenging attitude. Apparently the rivalry had continued.

The hockey player, wearing a "Property of the University of Michigan Wolverines" t-shirt, came towards them, flanked by a few of his friends. They were all carrying slushies. "Looks like the wild rumors of your mental collapse were wrong," he said, clearly eyeing Rachel who moved closer to Finn.

"Guess so," Finn replied. "Hope you're planning to drink those slushies."

Rick smirked and took a long pull from the cup he held. "It's too hot to waste them on you two."

"Shouldn't you be at training camp?" Finn asked. The tee was a giveaway.

"Got a couple of days break, having one last blowout with the boys here. At least I have a training camp to go to."

"At least I've only had one blow to the head," Finn retorted. Even without remembering it wasn't hard to mix things up a bit with Rick Nelson, who seemed much the same as three years ago, still with the same dumb haircut, still not really big enough to make it in the majors on muscle, still not smart enough to make it on talent. Still enjoying being a medium fish in a small pond. He felt Rachel pull closer to him, and he held her hand more tightly. That's why Rick probably thought he was fine, he realized, because he was with Rachel. They must have looked normal together, or he'd like to think so.

Rick snorted. "Whatever," he said, turning away. "Glad to see it didn't kill you, Hudson," he called back.

"Hope you're as lucky." Finn chuckled as he watched the puckheads leave, then looked down at Rachel, who was giving him a strange smile. "He's not hard to fool," he said, trying to carefully let her know that he hadn't been remembering.

"No he's not," Rachel said. "He hasn't changed much either. But you have." He looked askance at her, not sure what she meant. "I don't know if you want to hear this or not, but even not remembering... you feel a lot more like you." She squeezed his hand. "Not that you didn't before, but you're easier with yourself, more relaxed, or something like that. You're letting yourself be you."

Finn smiled awkwardly. "I hope that's good."

"It's wonderful." And for that, and the beaming smile she gave him, he just had to lean down to steal a quick kiss. And now he definitely had to win her something.

The bottle game was his best bet; there was a sweet spot you had to hit that wasn't the obvious place to try for. He watched the kid running the game demo it, then grinned as the people ahead of him couldn't do it. Might as well show off a little, she needed to know this was hard. And it was, if you didn't know where to try for, and if you didn't have a quarterback's aim. Finn had become a QB because he was tall, he could read the play when others couldn't see over the other players, but he'd put a lot of work into his aim. This wasn't a football but that didn't matter. And when Finn stepped to the front and put his money down, he found his aim just as true as ever, one-two-three. It took longer to decide on a prize than it took for him to win it; he wanted Rachel to pick it out for herself but she was adamant that he should and seemed very happy with the brown bear with the gold star that he eventually chose. And the game-runner made the best of it, using Finn's success as proof that it could be done, and he probably made a lot more money that way than he'd lost.

Last stop was the Ferris Wheel, to get a view of the fairground all lit up as darkness fell. Rachel wormed her way under Finn's arm and leaned against his chest as they lifted off the ground. His back was a little bent, with her weight added, so he straightened up a little as he tried to find a better position.

"Please don't pull away," she breathed, her voice tight.

"I wasn't," he insisted quietly. "Just shifting to get more comfortable."

"Okay." She eased, and he heard her inhale slowly and deeply. His arm went around her, tightening around her waist. She was so small, that he could wrap it around her like that. His fingertips grazed the tucks at the top of her dress's skirt, with his palm splayed over her stomach. The fabric beneath his hand was thin and tight, and he could feel the warmth of her skin beneath as he idly moved his thumb over it. It felt really good. If they were just getting to know each other, like his memories had it, he might try a little something at this point. They were a few dates in and her kisses were the stuff of dreams. If he remembered her, or just gave into his instincts, he would surely do a lot more, even in full view of the fairground. Caught between the two, he just sat there and held her as the Ferris Wheel went around. She'd been breathing in his scent, and he guessed he must still feel and smell the same. He could give her that much, at least, even if he couldn't bring back the guy she was remembering.

He drove her back to her house and walked her to the door, neither one wanting to say goodbye or even goodnight.

"I had a wonderful time tonight, Finn," Rachel said, turning to him at her door.

"So did I," Finn replied, his voice a little husky. He cleared his throat and tried to joke about the fair. "And now you know what you'll be missing, right?"

"I'll always know what I'll be missing," Rachel whispered, burying her head into his chest. Finn let his arms fall around her, and they stood silently together until Rachel eventually turned away and went into the house.

* * *

Finn woke up the next morning hard, and turned his thoughts to Rachel, thinking of her in his arms a little like she'd been last night. _I probably did this a lot in the morning_, he thought. _I wish I could look at her..._ And then he smirked, realizing that the picture that had been on his nightstand would have been used for this, and that the more together guy he'd been finding he'd become was still a horny teenage boy he could relate to. Maybe he could bring _that_ back even if he couldn't get anything else yet, anything for a toehold (_yeah, good excuse_).

After breakfast he went to talk to his mom. It was long past time he got his pictures back. She agreed, having simply waited until he asked, and he followed her into her room where she brought them out of the side of her closet.

Finn looked at them: his copy of the big Nationals picture he'd seen in Rachel's room (and they did look so very happy), the New York City skyline at dusk, Millennium Park in Chicago, and an ornate bridge over water in a treed park.

"That's Central Park," his mom explained. More New York. Of course they'd been there together. Same for Chicago, he supposed.

"What about the one of Rachel?" he asked, not seeing the one he was looking for.

"Oh, that was too small to put with the rest, I'll get it." She looked at him curiously. "How do you know about that?"

Finn sighed. No, he wasn't remembering, just using his brain. "There was obviously one on the nightstand, I saw the marks where it was. What else would it be?"

His mother gave a small tight smile. "I suppose. Just hoping."

"I know. And maybe if I get them back where they used to be it could help."

"It's worth a try," she agreed. "I'm sorry I didn't pay more attention to where they were." She went to a drawer and came back with an eight by ten stand-up picture frame which she handed to him.

Finn turned it over, and sure enough there was Rachel, looking stunning, her hair up with tendrils framing her face and a smile on those luscious lips. Her shoulders were completely bare, exposed by her strapless pale pink dress, and he figured in dim light and with his eyes half-closed she probably looked mostly naked. So this would be from prom, obviously, but it should also be great to jerk off to. _Nice choice, Hudson, classy and also not. _A high black-suited shoulder was visible behind her, going with the long arm around her and the man's hand that sat at her waist. That right hand held her left one, the thumb gently touching the ring that sparkled on her finger, and he knew it was his.

He wished he remembered. He wished he even felt that way, that gesture showed a man who truly cherished her. But even though he couldn't do that or recreate that, he could be at least a bit like the guy who'd chosen that picture to look at when he woke up in the morning. Even though he was going to be colossally embarrassed explaining his choice of "formerly familiar activities" to his bound-by-confidentiality shrink. Maybe he'd get lucky and he'd remember enough so he wouldn't have to explain how he did it.

Who was he kidding, he wasn't lucky. He'd exhausted his supply of luck just finding her in the first place. But if he could remember anything, especially about her, he'd take it. And if there was any activity he should be able to get into even knowing that he was trying to recreate it, it would be _that_, and maybe not being completely awake would help his subconscious come through. Made for a decent excuse anyway.

Finn took the pictures back to his room. Unfortunately his mom, in her hurry, hadn't kept track of which picture had gone where, and she didn't remember. He tried out a few options, looking at them out of the corner of his eye to see if he might be able to tell, but nothing seemed any more or less likely than the others.

He could ask Rachel. But he didn't want to have to go into that with her if he didn't have to, she knew he was trying but telling her about each attempt and detail would just rip her heart out again and again if they didn't work. So who else would remember what his room looked like? Puck. Or... he heard a noise from downstairs, as he wasn't the only person moving stuff around. Kurt, moving his boxes out of his room. He and Burt were leaving that night, driving to New York.

Finn went downstairs to talk to his stepbrother. "Kurt? I know you're totally busy, but I really need your help with something."

"It's a little last-minute," Kurt protested.

"I know. But you care about what rooms look like, right? So you might be able to help me with this. Please, Kurt."

Kurt frowned, puzzled, then followed Finn upstairs. "You want me to help you redecorate your room? _Now?_"

"More like un-redecorate my room." Finn led Kurt into his bedroom, where he'd put the missing pictures out on his bed. "I got these back from my mom, I figured I was ready. And I want to try putting it back the way it was, to see if that'll help, but I don't know what went where and she wasn't sure either. You care about stuff like that so I figured you might have noticed." He nodded to the nightstand, where the picture of Rachel was back in its former place. "Aside from the obvious, of course. I'll help you haul stuff for the rest of the day, just please help me figure this out."

"I thought you were going to help anyway," Kurt grumbled, but his focus was on the pictures. He stepped into the middle of Finn's room and closed his eyes for a few moments. "Bow Bridge was across from the bed," he said. "Nationals next to the Buckeyes poster, I think. And the cityscapes..." he frowned and opened his eyes. "Put the others up and we'll see."

Finn put the first two pictures up as directed, and was happy to see Kurt nod. The other two went into the remaining vacant spots, and Kurt looked at them for a moment and then reversed them. "That should be it," Kurt said. "I'll let it sit and look in later, see if it seems wrong at all. But you really should check with Rachel."

"I can't bug her about every last little thing I'm doing to remember, it just hurts her."

"Fine, but she'd know exactly what your room looked like. I think it's right now, though." He clasped his hands together. "Now let's move some boxes."

* * *

The next morning Finn woke up hard again, and turned his head to look at Rachel's picture as he started to take care of himself. And it felt _good_, seeing her like that through narrowed eyes added something to the experience (_'cause, yeah, she did look kinda naked that way_), helped him think about her tight body and that sweet curve and soft skin of her neck as he came. He even saw her with him dressed in that pink sundress she'd worn on Tuesday, but coming right up to him and loving and trusting him and letting him touch her everywhere. Wanting him to. _So amazing._ But then he felt guilty because the hand he'd had on his junk was also the one at her waist in the picture, holding her hand like she was the most precious thing on Earth, and all he could manage to feel right now was that he liked her and wanted her.

Though he knew he'd do it again. And he must have before, though he still didn't remember. But this wasn't right and he knew it, though it would be even worse for him to be fantasizing about anyone else.

* * *

Then that evening came, the time Finn had been dreading. Rachel was leaving tomorrow morning for New York.

He hadn't talked about it with her, he hadn't wanted to acknowledge the deadline and probably neither had she. He had hoped so much that he would have been able to bring back some memory of her first, just something, _anything_ that could give her hope that he was returning, that she would have him to come back to. But while he'd enjoyed being with her so much and felt them connecting, while he had reacted to her and certainly wanted her, even started to fantasize about her, he still didn't remember her at all. He was going to have to say goodbye to her without having that hope to give either of them, and that sucked beyond belief. And it also sucked to feel that this was needed, that who he was now couldn't be good enough for her.

But he had to see her one more time and talk to her, so he went over to her house. The door was answered by her father, LeRoy, who he hadn't officially met again but he'd seen. Finn squirmed at the man's intense gaze as he was asked in.

"Finn," LeRoy said. "I take it you're here to see Rachel."

"Yes." Finn clenched his hands at his sides, finding them sweaty.

"I'm her father LeRoy, by the way."

"Uh, yes, I saw you in the musical. You were really great," Finn babbled a little. "It's, uh, good to meet you, again I guess."

LeRoy gave him a small smile. "We've missed having you around here," he said. "You can come by, you know, even once Rachel's in New York. We'd like to have you, and of course we'd do anything to help you if we could."

_Wow. Wasn't expecting __**that**__._ "Uh, thank you," Finn stammered. He swallowed. "You know I really want to remember," he said quietly, needing Rachel's father to understand, even trust him with his daughter as much as was possible.

"I know." LeRoy paused. "There's one thing I should tell you about Rachel," he said. "I'm sure you knew it before, but it's important that you know now too." He looked intently at Finn. "Our little girl... she has the truest heart that ever beat. She's even had the same favorite movie since she was five, she relates to it differently now but it's still hers. What she loves, she loves; her heart expands to take in new things but she never lets anything go." Finn just stood there, not sure what to say, or even what the man meant by telling him this. That Rachel would never give up on him? LeRoy went on. "We weren't the biggest fans of you for her at first, you're a very decent young man but you seemed so unlike her, and you're both so young for the level of commitment you made. But we eventually realized that the way in which you were her match was in your heart."

Seeing the man's dark eyes fixed on him, Finn nodded, in acknowledgement rather than agreement. He still didn't know what the point was but he supposed it sounded good. And if it was his heart that mattered then maybe his missing memories weren't a deal-breaker. But he didn't know how he was supposed to build anything with her when they were going to be so far apart.

LeRoy stepped to the stairs and called up. "Rachel, princess? Could you come down here please?"

"Coming, dad!" Rachel chirped from above, and she came quickly downstairs, only to freeze when she caught sight of Finn standing with her father.

"Hey," he said, trying to smile.

"Hello Finn." Her eyes were wide and fixed on him. He'd never seen her not in a dress before; right now she wore a medium blue tank top and a small pair of jean shorts. With her hair in pigtails, she looked completely adorable. He spotted the chain around her neck that carried her ring, and lowered his gaze.

"So...' Finn shuffled his feet. "I know you're leaving tomorrow, for New York," he said, raising his eyes back to her. "I just wanted to come by to say goodbye." _And see you again_, he thought, leaving that unsaid.

"I'll leave you two," LeRoy said, and they heard him go downstairs.

Finn looked at Rachel, their eyes meeting, neither knowing what to say. He swallowed, trying to stop the lump from forming in his throat. "So you're coming back at the holidays, right?" He had to know when he'd see her again.

"Some of them, yes," she said.

"Thanksgiving? Or at Christmas, well Hanukkah for you, don't you have a break then?"

"Probably not Thanksgiving," Rachel replied. "It's not long and my dads are talking about coming to New York for it. We usually visit my uncle at the end of Hanukkah."

"Oh." Finn was stunned. _Doesn't she want to come back?_ He stared at her, not sure what to say.

"It's family arrangements, I don't know what's going to happen..." Rachel was clearly distressed too. "I just hadn't thought about it, I..." She closed her eyes momentarily, then fixed them on Finn again. "It wasn't supposed to be this way."

"I know," Finn said quietly. "Rachel –" he swallowed again, trying to get his thoughts into some sort of coherence. "I've really enjoyed spending time with you, these last couple of weeks," he said. "I don't know why I don't remember, but some stuff is starting to come back, at least to use it, subconscious memories or something like that according to the shrink, but it – it's _something_. And some of the things I've said might be based on memories too." Finn looked at the ceiling, knowing that he was grasping at straws, then he finally brought himself to meet her questioning gaze. "I can't make any promises, hell I'd remember everything if I could, and nothing's come back consciously. But right now I really want to be able to see you again. Talk to you again, I really like talking to you and being around you."

Rachel exhaled, obviously struggling to stay in control. "Me too."

"Well, yeah."

"No, I mean... you now. It's not just because I remember our past."

"Oh. Yeah, I -" Finn broke off, her words registering. "Really?" he asked, hoping it was true. Sure he wanted to remember, bring back the man he'd been... but he'd seen those looks in her eyes and wished they could be for him, as if he was jealous of himself. Hoped that those kisses could really be with him, now. He wanted to be appreciated for who he was, instead of as a broken version of who he used to be or a stand-in for the fiancé she remembered. Even though he didn't love her the way that man had.

"Yes," she insisted, responding to him. "The other night at bowling, Sunday at your place, and at the fair – I had a really good time with you. And talking to you, too."

_Wow._ Finn smiled at her. He liked that, that maybe she'd been feeling that connection to him as well. But it was all still so new to him, and he didn't know what sort of future they could have. But the way he was starting to feel about her, and what he knew about their past, he wasn't sure he could have a future with anyone else. He hesitated, trying to put what he was feeling into words, words that wouldn't hurt now or lead to hurt later. "For me, it's not just my subconscious, or trying to bring it back either," he admitted. "You... there's just something about you."

"Do... do you think you're remembering? Us?"

"Not that I can tell, not consciously. Maybe it's just –" Finn looked down at the floor again, then back at her. "Maybe it's just that I've always been drawn to you," he said, very softly. He swallowed. "And I don't know what to do about it, what either of us can do about it, it's not three years ago. I can't promise anything more serious will happen between us, or that I'll remember, and I don't want to hurt you any more than this already does, you have to go on with your studies, prepare for your future. And I'm so sorry that I wasted all that time, this summer." He focused on her face. "I just really want to be able to see you again."

"We could still talk," Rachel offered. "It's New York, it's not the moon."

"Yeah." But Finn paused. The whole situation was just so fucked up. "I don't know if that's a good idea, though, at least not yet. I mean..." he looked at Rachel's disappointed face. "What would we talk about? How you're doing, how I'm doing..." He groaned, shaking his head.

"Oh." Rachel paused. "Kind of unnatural, huh?"

"The whole thing is unnatural. I think it'd just hurt, if we talked about the things we should be doing together that we're not. And I don't want you to worry about how things are with me, to be always waiting to hear if I remember something, get hurt if I don't."

"I'll worry anyway."

"Yeah, I know, I guess I just don't want to distract you and keep hurting you." _Or feel the pressure, have to figure out what to tell her every week. _"And I'm supposed to relax, somehow." He frowned. "We can try to keep it to the background, for now, if something goes wrong I'll tell you, or someone else will if I can't. And I'll be on Facebook a bit, just basic stuff. I'm not going to disappear."

"You know your Facebook password?" Rachel was puzzled.

"My computer knows my Facebook password. And before you ask, I didn't remember my computer password either, or at least I didn't know it in my head until I changed it. My fingers knew it, which was freaky."

"It would be. You haven't been posting, though."

"Yeah, I know. I'll start again. But I'm not going to say much, and I don't want to change my profile. Too..." Finn struggled to find the right explanation. "Too big a deal, I guess. Like it would really mean things had changed. Forever."

Rachel mustered a smile. "I know what you mean." Neither of them had changed their relationship status, even to "it's complicated" (though it certainly was). As far as the world was concerned, they were still engaged. "Okay. Just..." she paused.

"Just what?"

"Don't pull away, Finn. Please. And not just because I couldn't stand to lose you, but..." She pursed her lips. "It's hard for me to leave because I'll miss you, but even more because I don't want to leave you when you might need me," she stated. "We sort of grew up together, these last few years. We helped each other figure life out. You can count on me, always, if you have to do that again, or if you don't. No matter what. Okay?"

Finn listened, letting her words sink in, seeing the sincerity and love in her eyes. He nodded. "Okay," he replied. It was hard to accept that he might need help, but people did, he'd help someone else if they were in his position. And he did feel left behind, like even Puck had grown up without him. (Luckily grown-up Puck wasn't that grown up.)

"And I'll see you at Christmas," she promised.

"Yeah. I hope..." he trailed off. _I hope I'll be better_, he thought, but he didn't dare voice it. "I hope I'll have a better idea about where my head is then, these last few weeks have been great but also really intense."

"You need to take the pressure off," she said.

"Yeah. I think so." Finn exhaled. He knew what he had to tell her now, no matter how much he didn't want it. "But... I know you told me that you'd wait, for me, but I – I can't ask you to. It wouldn't be fair to you. Well, none of this has been fair to you, but expecting you to put up with it forever really wouldn't be." This was hard for him to say, and even harder to think of happening. He knew everything he'd been told and had started to feel about how connected they could be, and he wanted that. But he also didn't know how to build a new relationship with her, when his instinct was so very far ahead of his brain. This was all so screwed up, if he didn't remember he might eventually have to let her go, somehow. If he could ever be sure he wasn't going to remember.

"Finn... I didn't say I was willing to wait."

"You... _huh?_"

"I said that I would. That's what I meant, anyway. It's not a choice, Finn. I love you, that's just the way it is."

"You love _him_."

"There's not really that much difference. And he's in you, I know that." Rachel lowered her eyes, then looked up at Finn again. "Let's not argue about this. Take care of yourself, all of you, and I'll see you at Christmas."

"Okay. Enjoy New York, it should be amazing."

"I will." She walked him outside, and they turned to face each other. This really was goodbye, for now.

Finn touched her cheek, then leaned down to give her a light kiss. Rachel kissed him back, escalating it quickly, nipping at his bottom lip. Finn pulled back a little, not wanting to lead her on or lose control. He touched his forehead to hers.

"Finn, please," Rachel begged softly, her tears starting to flow. "Let yourself go. Just once more." And he understood: he didn't remember being her fiancé, or feel like he really was that guy, but he could kiss like him, if he let his autopilot take over, and she desperately wanted to feel that again. Finn moistened his lips and kissed her back, losing himself in the moment, letting his subconscious take over the way it wanted to. Their mouths mated passionately, instinctively, tasting each other and the salt of tears.

Even with his subconscious in charge Finn felt it, a fire burning white-hot deep inside him, and his body certainly reacted. They were both breathless when she stopped, and he felt himself get back into conscious control, his nerves still humming with the passion of that kiss. "Thank you," she whispered, then turned to go.

"Rachel, wait." Finn pulled her hand and she turned back to him. He leaned down and wrapped her tightly in his arms, hugging her closely to him, feeling her hands grip his back. Somehow she fit, even though he was so big and she was so small. He held her tightly for a minute or so, breathing in the scent of her hair, feeling her body pressed against his. It felt right.

Then they disengaged without a word, and she turned away again and went back inside. As Finn walked slowly back to the car, he realized that some of the tears were his own.

* * *

_A/N: Okay, I can hear the howls of frustration already, probably because some of them are from me! I swear that I worked this plot out well before "Goodbye" aired; I'm not copying anything here (so perhaps I really do own the plot after all). Rachel's just in the way right now, and there's a bit here where you might be able to see why._

_Please review! (Even howls of frustration are welcome.)  
_


	21. from the way we thought we'd share it

_A/N: Thank you for all your feedback, and for your trust in sticking with this story as it gets longer and longer._

* * *

Friday the Berry family rose early, moved Rachel's last boxes and suitcases into the van they'd rented, and headed to New York. Rachel sat behind whichever of her dads was driving, quiet, listening to her favorite playlist of Broadway songs, trying to embed musical theater so deeply into her mind that she'd be able to forget who she was leaving behind or at least reduce the sharp pain to a dull throb.

_I can do this,_ she told herself. _I'm Rachel Berry. I can take a faceful of sticky ice and an earful of insults and still come back at the world with my head held high and a smile on my face. NYADA is the chance of a lifetime and I'm going to grab it with both hands. _She frowned as she listened to her cliché-ridden internal monologue, but it was true. She was strong, she could do this. After all, she would have gone without him if he hadn't been going before, right? If he hadn't gotten into college in New York, they would have had to be apart while she studied, was this so different? Or if she hadn't met him? This had been her lifelong dream, before she'd met Finn. But loving Finn had changed her. Now she'd been shown everything she'd ever wanted, even things she hadn't dared dream of before, just to have that crucial part ripped away. She was leaving him behind her, hurting and needing to heal, not wanting to talk to her because he was afraid to get her hopes up every time. Leaving exactly when they needed time together to rebuild their connection now that his memory of their love was gone as if it never happened.

_Don't say that,_ she told herself. _It's not as if it never happened, it was real and it still is. He feels it, I know he does and he knows it too._ She pulled herself together. _He just needs some time, and maybe it's better if I don't hover. One way or another I will have his heart again, and he will heal. He's Finn._

She was strong. She could do this. She had to.

And since she was going, she needed to make the best of it. She turned up the volume on her music higher and higher until she could no longer hear her thoughts.

* * *

They arrived in the city that evening, quite tired from the long drive, and all three of them went straight to their hotel. The next morning they headed to the apartment to meet Kurt and move Rachel's things in.

The apartment was rather a find, thanks to her dads' efforts. Back in June the two men had been in New York on business, and with the kids' college plans in place they had taken advantage of their local connections to find somewhere good that hadn't yet been advertised for rent. It was small, but it was also clean, well furnished, reasonably close to NYADA, and had a decent manager.

There was a lot of space in Rachel's room, by New York standards, and as she unpacked her things mechanically she did her best to ignore why. She hung her clothes to the side of the closet and used only some of the drawers, rationalizing that of course here in New York she would need a new wardrobe, and even if she didn't think so she was sure Kurt would convince her of it. And the extra floor space would be useful for yoga or perhaps practicing dance moves. Deep down she just couldn't bring herself to spread out. She mustn't take over the room, mustn't get used to using all of the space herself, that would be wrong.

Kurt suggested that just the two of them eat together that night to christen the apartment properly as students; her dads were persuaded to leave, with promises that they would all meet for brunch tomorrow, and Kurt headed off to find some takeout. He said he'd found a good place and wanted to surprise Rachel.

Rachel walked back into her new room and went to the bed. It wasn't what she was used to; she'd had a four-poster bed her whole life, short, contained. This bed was long and open-ended, and very high off the ground so her feet would dangle. Her daddy had made sure of the size when he'd looked over the place back in June, because he knew exactly what a tall man would need to be comfortable. It was touching, really, that he'd cared and done his best to get them set up together, especially considering how concerned both her dads had been about the intensity of their seventeen-year-old daughter's relationship. But now it was another reminder of what wasn't there.

This was Finn's bed, even if he never slept in it, chosen for them to share in what was supposed to be their home together. And Rachel crumpled onto it and cried, wracked by heaving sobs.

Half an hour later Kurt came back with their food and found her there, curled up in a fetal position with the bear Finn had won for her clutched to her chest. He sat down with her, putting his arm around her for comfort, letting her cry her pain out for now.

* * *

Rachel put on a brighter face for brunch the next day, as she and Kurt went to meet her dads and Burt. Burt was staying in New York for a few days to meet people, his pro-arts position and its success among people in Ohio having attracted quite a lot of interest in New York.

Her dads' hotel and its Sunday brunch were familiar, she'd been here with her dads before, so it was easier to slip into being a younger Rachel, focusing only on her family and her friend and the excitement of being in New York. Kurt chatted excitedly about the things he'd found in their neighborhood in the two days he'd been there before her, and they talked as well about some of the actors and singers who were currently artists-in-residence at NYADA. They would get to not just meet them and talk to them, but potentially work with them. Orientation started tomorrow and they couldn't wait.

Her dads were leaving first thing the next morning, so they hugged their goodbyes. Burt was staying another day, but between his meetings and their orientation schedule they might not see him again, so she gave him a small soft package to take home with him. She'd bought it the previous afternoon on impulse, and yes it was a cliché, but maybe someday Finn might feel like wearing that shirt to show that his heart really was in New York. Her own heart had cracked a little more when she'd waited in line at the souvenir shop and had her eyes fall on the snow globes.

* * *

Monday was the start of freshman orientation at NYADA, with the morning spent introducing the professors and artists-in-residence. In the afternoon the students for their program met in a small auditorium, the new students sitting in a small cluster in the front with the other members of the program sitting behind them, and they were introduced to the NYADA equivalent of a little freshman hazing.

By tradition, NYADA orientation for musical theater students included a solo from each new student, so that the rest of the program (all the professors and continuing students) could see what the new students were made of. Also by tradition, this happened in the afternoon of the first day, without warning, the code of secrecy holding even among students in different programs (who had their own activities to put their incoming students on the spot) because it was so entertaining to see what the freshmen would do when taken by surprise. There was a mixer afterwards, and the solos always worked well as an icebreaker.

Of course, as the dean explained, some did have a bit longer than others; they couldn't all sing at the same time, but all students were required to sit quietly and pay attention throughout the solos, they couldn't start preparing. And though it wasn't a requirement, it was preferred that they not reuse their audition number. The accompanist had an encyclopaedic knowledge of Broadway and pop music so they simply had to tell him what they were going to sing when they reached the stage.

Order was alphabetical. Kurt and Rachel exchanged a glance; they'd seen the list of freshmen, and they knew what that meant. Next year hopefully they'd be sitting at the back as an unwarned Blaine was put on the spot like this, but this year there were no A surnames.

First to sing: Berry, Rachel.

As Rachel slowly and surely walked to the stage, her mind raced to pick a number from her repertoire. This wasn't an assignment or an official audition, but certainly it would be a foundation for how the professors would work with them. She needed to show what she was made of, but how? She didn't feel like singing "Don't Rain on My Parade", her mood wasn't even close to the take-life-by-the-horns attitude that it needed. Her nationals solo was out as well, many of them would have heard it and the unfortunate association between its lyrics and Finn's amnesia would make it hard for her to get through. Also potentially too emotional were "My Man" and "On My Own", normally she was fabulous with numbers like those but she'd been holding herself in so much that she couldn't guarantee she'd get through either of them. The direct line into herself that performing always provided could easily pull her apart when she was already so close to dissolving into a puddle of tears. She'd managed "Far From the Home I Love" in her current situation, so that was an option, but it was from a minor role and didn't come close to stretching her and showing what she could do. She was first, she needed to set the bar high or she'd be forgotten by the end.

As she stepped onto the stage, her mind cleared and she knew what she should sing. She quietly told her selection to the accompanist and stood at center stage as the opening notes played. (*)

_There's a place for us,  
Somewhere a place for us.  
Peace and quiet and open air  
Wait for us  
Somewhere._

She'd sung this with Shelby, before, and used it as her first _West Side Story_ audition specifically because it stretched her, as Shelby had so correctly reasoned. But though back then she'd thought of her birth mother, and on stage she'd sung it to Blaine as Tony, right now the only image in front of her eyes was Finn. Her Finn, still divided from her but trying to make his way back, either by remembering or rebuilding their love. Somehow.

_There's a time for us,  
Some day a time for us,  
Time together with time to spare,  
Time to look, time to care,  
Someday!  
Somewhere.  
We'll find a new way of living,  
We'll find a way of forgiving  
Somewhere._

She sang passionately, dynamically, pouring her heart and pain into the song but still keeping the hope alive that the lyrics expressed. Someday, my love. Somehow, we'll be together again.

_There's a place for us,  
A time and place for us.  
Hold my hand and we're half way there.  
Hold my hand and I'll take you there  
Somehow,  
Someday,  
Somewhere!_

And as she finished, tears streaming from her sad eyes but a hopeful smile on her face, the audience of musical theater authorities and elite students sprang to their feet and applauded loudly, impressed.

* * *

Hazing for all freshman students in performance programs continued at the mixer in the NYADA quad. Each program's seniors had prepared a new piece for a cold run-through, something deliberately difficult to sing or perform well for various reasons, generally due to the inclusion of outrageously inconsistent elements. A serious challenge for elites set by elites, and also incredibly silly. The student president had a bell that she rang at apparently (but probably not) random intervals, signalling that the piece's lone copy should be passed to the next student around the circle. Anyone who screwed up too much had to stay and take another turn later.

The drama students had a monologue, full of overdramatic and twisted prose that wouldn't have been out of place in a Bulwer-Lytton competition, and they had to present it as though they meant it, while following directions as to gestures and tone of voice. Out of the first three students, two couldn't stop themselves from giggling; the piece just got worse and worse as it went on.

The opera students were divided into low and high voices, with each group having an aria, full of changes in dynamic and pitch, progressions that lasted just long enough to give the singer a false sense of security before suddenly changing, words with accented syllables on normally unstressed beats, and changes in language. One student was laughing so hard at his predecessor's misrendering of a word (apparently interpreted as the wrong language, entirely changing both pronunciation and meaning) that he couldn't sing more than four words and had to pass it on, hoping that it wouldn't get too much harder when he had to try again (it did).

The song for the musical theater students had the worst of both worlds, within their genre: tortured lyrics which _had_ to rhyme appropriately (despite many of them being slightly off if sung as one would speak it), unusual progressions, tempo and mood changes, every twist that could be thrown into a single midrange song in English. It was exactly what Rachel needed, the irrepressible silliness of the entire event puncturing her melancholy like a scalpel piercing a balloon, the challenge of the piece firing up her competitiveness. She laughed at the song and at the difficulties the others experienced with it while gathering her energy for when her own turn came. A few steps before her Kurt mangled a rhyme and laughed at himself. After one more singer the score was passed to her, her eyes rapidly scanning it to find her place, and she was off and singing. The life of dramatic misery that the song was alternately bemoaning and bragging about made Rachel's own troubles dwindle, years of searching for a long-lost twin only to discover that the twin had had extensive plastic surgery and had been sharing the singer's bed for years... and then Rachel turned the page and had to launch herself into an unexpected series of vocal runs celebrating the bonds formed in the womb. She hung on desperately as everyone else cracked up, and was relieved to finally hear the bell ring and pass. A moment later she felt disappointed to not get another go at it, as the exhilaration and adrenalin that flooded her was astounding.

Finally, when the last freshman passed, the song went back to its originators and they gave the ending an overdramatic flourish in harmony, causing the rest to convulse with laughter.

As the hazing finished and the drinks and nibbles came out, Rachel chatted happily to her fellow students. She felt like she was flying, soaring on all the creative energy around her and the feeling of shared enthusiasm and commitment to artistic excellence that NYADA was already starting to give her.

Then she crashed back down as a single word, a name, leaped out at her from the surrounding conversations: Finn. By reflex she jerked her head around, looking for whoever had said it. A young medium-to-tall blond man caught her eye and smiled at her. Rachel exhaled, trying to dispel her reaction and regain her happy mood, and she refocused her attention on the two girls she'd been talking to, drama freshmen both. One was comparing the intentional utter insanity of the monologue to some experimental play she'd done at home, laughing at how the deliberately over-the-top piece had been more plausible than the one intended to be serious.

A hand on her arm drew her attention away again, and she turned to find herself face-to-face with the blond man she'd seen before. He smiled down at her, his blue eyes shining.

"You're new in musical theater, right? I was impressed by how well you managed the song, even that page turn. That was crazy, they come clever wherever you're from."

"Thank you," Rachel said, giving him a friendly polished smile. "Yes, I'm in musical theater. Rachel Berry. I'm from Ohio."

"Paul Tervo, of the Minnesota Finns. I'm a sophomore in the drama program."

Rachel blinked, taken aback by the name, smiling to cover her discomfiture. "Excuse me?"

"Like the Minnesota Twins? My family is Finnish on dad's side, Tervo, and I'm from St. Paul, so that makes me a Minnesota Finn." She still stared at him, her face frozen in a fake smile, having difficulty dealing with the recurring reminder. For her _'Finn'_ only had one meaning. Of course he had no idea and came up with a different explanation for her reaction. "You probably don't watch baseball. The Minnesota Twins, the baseball team. Back home they're really well known even by people who aren't sports fans, it's hard for me to remember that half the NYADA students have probably never heard of them, especially when I've just come back from a visit home." Except Rachel had heard of the Twins, Finn and Burt used to mention them sometimes when discussing baseball (usually negatively as the Cleveland Indians were rivals and currently far more successful). She supposed the young man's joke could be charming if it didn't hit the one name that went straight to her heart.

Right now all she wanted to do was get away. "I hope you're doing better than they are," she said, overcompensating against her impulse to simply walk off.

He blinked. "You follow baseball?"

"No." She winced as his blue eyes kept her in their laser view. How she wished for a warm light brown instead. "Someone I know does," she explained. It should be obvious she was uncomfortable, but apparently he couldn't take the hint.

"Someone, huh?" Paul asked rhetorically. He smiled again. "Boyfriend?"

_Oh I am not getting into this with a complete stranger right now,_ Rachel thought. "I don't date," she stated flatly. _Might as well get that out there, it's true as far as anyone here goes. Anyone who isn't Finn._

"Oh?" He looked disappointed, but gave her a concerned smile. "That's a shame."

"I'm focused on my studies here. It's such an exceptional opportunity." She kept her words more formal, trying to distance herself without having to be completely cold.

"NYADA has many exceptional things. Not all of them involve study." His smile deepened, and Rachel found she had to look aside.

"I'm sure that's true, the extracurriculars should be amazing, and events like this are fabulous. Everyone's so creative. I daresay I will see you when you appear in a play of some kind." She was trying not to be rude, she didn't want to make that kind of bad first impression on the people here, but she had to push away his obvious overtures. And if word got around that she wasn't romantically available, so much the better.

"Count on it," Paul said as she turned away, and his eyes followed her speculatively as she walked off.

* * *

Meanwhile, in Lima, Finn was also getting himself organized for school. As encouraged by both his shrink and his mom, he'd decided to take two courses at Lima Community College, one on writing and one on introductory psychology. He met with the instructors there on Tuesday afternoon and explained his unusual situation; he really had no idea how much of his skills from high school would be usable, but he was going to give it a try, and they agreed to give him some consideration if it turned out he was having too much trouble.

He then worked late in the tire shop, catching up on the day's work and keeping a wider eye on how things were going in Burt's absence. Burt should get back the next day and would want to know how things were.

Finn finally arrived home just after eight, tired and hungry. His mom was in the living room watching a movie; he looked in and saw she was going in for Eighties nostalgia again, rewatching _Pretty in Pink_. He watched the rest of the current scene with her, and then she put it on hold.

"Dinner's warm in the oven, honey," she told him. "Lasagna."

"Thanks, Mom," Finn replied. He paused, though, before going to find it. "It's kind of quiet around here these days," he commented.

"Yes, it is," his mom agreed.

"It's funny... I thought that'd feel more normal, but it doesn't," Finn admitted. "I miss having them around."

Carole smiled. "That's good," she said. "Well not so good in that Kurt's gone to college and Burt's going to be spending a lot of his time in DC now, but good that you miss them. That it feels normal to have them around."

"Yeah." Had it really only been six weeks since he'd woken up in hospital? It seemed longer, so much had happened. Finn shook his head. "I'm just going to go eat," he told his mom, then headed for the kitchen. She went back to the movie, and he idly heard it in the background as he ate.

Once he'd finished he went back into the living room, where the movie was almost over. He'd watched it with his mom a few times before, when he was younger, and he recognized the prom scene and the song being played in the background. Almost done, the guy was apologizing to the girl for caving into his friends and dumping her. The girl's pink dress reminded him a bit of Rachel in that dress she'd worn to the fair on their last date, the way he kept seeing her coming to him in his brief fantasies. Not that it took much to make him think of her like that, he didn't usually notice clothes. And they weren't that much alike really, just the color mostly.

The music swelled as the key scene at the dance continued, and he started to softly sing along: (**)

_I touch you once I touch you twice  
I won't let go at any price  
I need you now like I needed you then  
You always said we'd meet again someday_

He saw his mom smile at him, and he reddened. "You really do have a nice voice, kiddo," she said.

Finn smiled sheepishly. "Thanks." And he had sounded pretty good, guess the benefits of practice hadn't worn off even though he didn't remember doing any of it. Though like his physical conditioning, it would fade if he didn't work on it again. "Were we like that?" he asked quietly, nodding to the screen where the couple was reuniting.

"You and Rachel? A bit. You certainly had the 'popular boy, unpopular oddball girl' thing going, and it does have its problems just like in the movie." She chuckled ruefully. "John Hughes had high school pegged, there's a big 'herd' mentality that is particularly cruel to those who just can't help being different. It's hard to fight it since it fights back."

"But we did," Finn mused. He must have really loved her, to have done that. He knew he'd always gone along with the crowd before, done what Puck, Quinn, and his football buddies wanted him to do; he couldn't see himself going against that unless he'd really needed to, found he needed Rachel in his life badly enough to make the trouble worth it. And it would have been a lot of trouble, Rachel hadn't just been unpopular or from the wrong crowd, she'd been actively picked on by many of his friends.

His mom nodded. "Yes you did. Not always that successfully, but you got it in the end." She sighed. "At least you don't have to go through that high school stuff again."

Finn managed a smile. "Yeah." Though he felt adrift from all of it, everyone having moved on but him. But if Rachel had been worth fighting for against the crowd before, she would still be worth fighting for now. Even though he didn't know how, because he had to fight himself, that terrible weakness in his head. She believed in him... even if he didn't believe in himself, she believed in him.

_Heaven knows what happens now..._ he thought, turning another of the song's lyrics over in his head.

_Someday._

* * *

_* "Somewhere" from West Side Story, lyrics by Stephen Sondheim.  
** "If You Leave" as performed by Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark, written by Andy McCluskey, Paul Humphreys and Martin Cooper._


	22. it takes a little more persistence

At his next psychiatrist appointment Finn haltingly explained his morning activities involving Rachel's picture, sure that he was turning completely red. Those offices had better be soundproofed, especially since this was the hospital his mother had worked at for most of his life. Once he'd finished he tore his eyes from the floor and looked over at the doctor. He'd thought Belhaven was completely unflappable, his expression always stoic and not showing any reaction, but this time the man's eyebrows were up under his hair and he seemed to be momentarily stunned into silence.

Eventually the doctor spoke. "Well, Finn, while it's not something I would have suggested, it does seem to have all of the characteristics of a suitable activity," he said slowly. "Your rationale is certainly unusual, but it's sound, especially the idea of your not being fully awake at the time. So, ah, hmm." The doctor paused. "So how does it feel – ah, is it familiar?"

Finn looked at the floor again. "Sort of," he tried to explain. "Sometimes more than others. Yesterday morning at first I thought I should save it and go be with her for real, which doesn't make sense now because she's gone to New York and anyway we weren't even close to doing that before she left. So that could have been the old me, thinking that." He exhaled. "I don't know."

"Is that as far as it goes, or does it lead to something else?" It was Finn's turn to stare awkwardly now, hearing that question. "In your mind," the doctor clarified.

"I have a little, uh, fantasy," Finn admitted. "Of being with her. Not the picture, though, she's like she was for our last date, at the fair. That was two days before I started doing this, so it was the last time I'd seen her."

"The time you bluffed your old classmate."

"Yeah. But later, I went on the Ferris Wheel with her, all close together, it felt really good. And sometimes in the morning when I do this it's like that, at least she looks and feels the same, same dress even, but more's happening."

"Around you?"

"Uh, no, there's nothing around, at least there doesn't seem to be, I might not notice. We're doing more, at least we're going to. Like instead of just being close together with my hand on her waist we're going to keep going, and she wants to and I want to, and I'm really excited..." He broke off. It was very hazy, which considering when he had the fantasy wasn't surprising. "That's all, really. Then I, um, take care of myself, uh, in real life." Finn's eyes were squeezed shut, initially to help him visualize but also because he really didn't want to see any reaction from the doctor. This was extremely private stuff, it was very hard to make himself talk about it.

"And you don't remember doing anything like that, with anyone, do you?"

"No." He knew he'd been sexually active, but he'd forgotten all of it. Apparently his first time had sucked anyway, pity he couldn't just remember the good stuff and forget that. Though right now he'd settle for a nasty memory just to prove he could get anything to come back.

"Hmm."

_Back at 'hmm'._ Finn frowned and stared at the doctor. "So do you think it means something? I thought it was just a fantasy, just wishing we'd gone further before she left, put together with what I was doing. It's really short, not connected to anything else like you said memories should be."

"Like memories should be when they come back strongly," Belhaven corrected. He pursed his lips. "I don't know, Finn, it's your mind."

"I wish it knew that."

The doctor chuckled. "Yes. And what you're saying about this, it does sound like it could just be an extrapolation of your date with her, coupled with your activity. Just an extension, sort of linking the two." He scribbled a bit more on his notepad, then looked back at Finn. "Or it might not be."

"No?" That got Finn's attention. _Could it be real?_

"Given how much you've forgotten, it could at least be incorporating an aspect of a lost memory," the doctor replied.

"That's vague." Finn frowned again, his hope falling.

"Yes. But you don't have any known conscious memories to put into what you've described."

"So my subconscious is coming out to play again," Finn muttered. He'd hoped for more.

"Maybe." The doctor shook his head. "I wish we could tell when a memory is or isn't real, but we can't. Once it's in your head, you can't tell whether it's from something that actually happened; even what we perceive and remember is just our internal interpretation, it's not a recording. And it is possible to remember without realizing that you are. Real memories do tend to be more extensible, since they're more connected to other memories, but it's not a yes/no test."

_At least it might be something,_ Finn told himself, trying to stave off disappointment. _Might be a memory – and what a memory if it is. _But if it was a memory, he wanted more of it, a lot more. And he wanted it to feel real, not foggy, though that glimpse was all he seemed to get.

* * *

The next day's mail brought a further annoyance, some documentation from the SUV-driving maniac's insurance company. Apparently they were not being remotely helpful about paying Finn's medical expenses, wanting some sort of agreement in advance. Burt took one look at it, swore, and said straight-out that it was a bad deal and they needed to talk to a lawyer.

"We'll go talk to Hiram tomorrow," Burt said to Carole and Finn that night. "It's ridiculous that they can't deal with the short-term expenses now, sure they want a limitation on the whole thing but you can't agree to that when you're still in recovery. And that lunatic was clearly at fault, he's been charged and it'll stick, so this is a crap offer to limit liability. Hiram will sort it out."

The next afternoon all three of them met with the lawyer, a tall older man with greying dark hair. The others clearly knew him well, and he certainly knew Finn; a friend of Burt's, Finn assumed as he smiled and responded to the lawyer's polite inquiries.

The man took one look at the paperwork from the insurance company and scoffed at it. "Nice try," he said. "We can certainly do much better than that, especially with the statements provided about the accident. Sure Finn doesn't remember it, but other motorists have made statements, and the passenger witness is impeccable." He gave a strange smile as he said that.

"I am concerned about the potential for conflict of interest, though," the man went on. "I can take the case in the short term, which is what you need it for now to claim the monies to pay for Finn's treatment, but if this turns into a suit for damages based on long-term effects then I might potentially need to refer you to another firm, depending on how the situation plays out." He frowned and glanced at the picture frame that faced him on his desk.

Carole and Burt exchanged looks with Hiram, then with each other, clearly giving this some thought, though Finn didn't understand what was being talked about. _What potential for conflict of interest? Who else would have an interest?_

"We trust you, Hiram," Burt said at last. "I know you'll do right by Finn. And if the situation changes, we'll deal with it then."

"I'd rather you than any other lawyer," Carole insisted. "Of course you're involved, but it's in the right way. I don't want a lawyer who could be more concerned about the money than about Finn's recovery, and you have the same priorities that we do."

"Of course," Hiram said, leaning forward. "We all want a complete recovery, no matter what that might mean for the case. But you need to know that if he doesn't get it, and we have to start talking about compensation for the long-term effects of the change to his life, that Finn's won't necessarily be the only claim, and I might not be able to represent him any more."

"Hold on," Finn said, confused. "What other claim are you talking about? And I'm not a kid anymore, you're talking about representing _me_, so I need to know what's going on and what this conflict is."

Hiram looked from Finn to Carole, and then back to Finn. "I'm sorry, Finn, it seems we weren't properly reintroduced," he said. "You seemed to recognize me so I didn't think anything of it."

"Everyone acted like you should be familiar so I just went with it," Finn admitted. "I get that a lot these days."

"Of course." Hiram handed Finn his business card. "And you're quite right, you're an adult so I should be dealing with you directly." Finn looked at the card, which read _Hiram Berry_. "I'm Rachel's father, so naturally my interests lie with hers. When it comes to your recovery, of course hers and yours are the same, but in the long term, it's possible that they might not be."

"But I've met Rachel's father. LeRoy Berry." Finn panicked. "Am I having _more_ memory problems? I remember meeting him at her house just before she left for New York."

"No, that's all right, Finn." Hiram smiled reassuringly. "LeRoy and I are both Rachel's fathers."

"Thank God. I just – if I start having trouble remembering things that happened since the accident, then there's something seriously wrong." Finn exhaled. "Wait, Rachel has two fathers?" _'My dads', she said a few times,_ he remembered. _I just didn't notice that she meant more than one._

Hiram laughed. "Yes, we had her through a surrogate," he said, turning the picture in front of him around so that Finn could see it: Hiram, LeRoy, and between them Rachel.

Finn glanced at his mom for confirmation, and was relieved to see her nod. "Okay then." So Rachel must be_ that_ girl, the one Puck had told him about from his Temple, way back when. He and Puck had bonded as kids over their common fatherlessness, Puck's dad being a deadbeat and Finn's being simply dead, so when he'd heard there was a girl with two dads he'd been a little jealous, that she had two when there were two boys who didn't really have any. Then Puck had said she didn't have a mom, and he'd felt better 'cause he'd never want to give up his mom. _We were, like, ten or something. But that must have been Rachel that Puck mentioned. Weird. _But even as he brought his mind back out of those long-ago childish thoughts, he reeled. He had actually proposed to a girl with _two_ fathers, without having to? He couldn't imagine having the guts to deal with one, much less two, and those two especially – they both seemed to like him, but Hiram was even taller than he was and LeRoy had that intense way of looking. This man that he'd turned into must've been pretty strong and confident. Or just really, really in love.

"So, Finn, now that you know who I am and what the potential conflict is, do you agree to have me represent you in this initial suit, to cover your medical and other immediate costs?"

Finn thought about it, but it seemed to be all right. Rachel believed in him and wanted to help him, and he didn't want the kind of future that would have her interests and his own be so different. "Yes, that's okay," he said. "Like my mom said, we all want the same thing."

"Certainly. And as your lawyer what you tell me is completely confidential," Hiram explained. "Even from my daughter. Though I'm quite sure she'll never speak to me again if I don't do right by you, so there is an extra incentive for me here."

"Okay."

"Now, your therapist is probably having you keep a diary, correct?" Hiram saw Finn nod. "Yes, that's typical for these cases. Ensure that you keep it up to date. You can even expand further on things on your own, it's important to have as complete a record as possible to support any future claim for damages."

"Okay." _Damages._ Finn hated the word and the thoughts it brought out in him. _Like I'm broken beyond fixing and they're going to have to figure out how much that other guy was worth._ He swallowed, looking at the smiling image of Rachel in the picture. _And he'll have to punt me to some other lawyer once they decide that I'm not going to be good enough, because Rachel lost that guy too._ "Anything else?" he asked, desperate to be gone from all this talk of the destruction of who he'd been. He'd thought he'd gotten past that, been hoping that he could be enough for his life and for Rachel, even now, but maybe that was just a dream. A fantasy, like that fragment he'd been getting probably was.

"No, I can take it from here, as long as I get any bills forwarded." Hiram stood and gave Finn a concerned look, taking in his pained demeanor. "Look, Finn, this is all worst-case talk," he said. "That's what lawyers do, make sure everything is covered. From what I hear you've been reconnecting with a few memories, even if you can't access them consciously yet, right?" Finn nodded softly. "So let me take care of the other things for you. You take care of yourself. And stop beating yourself up about what you don't remember. You're still you."

Finn breathed, trying to shunt his negative thoughts away, clinging to the sound of Rachel's voice, telling him: _'I believe in you.'_ Maybe not talking to her wasn't the best idea, he could certainly use hearing her say that to him again. But that wouldn't be fair to her, to keep interrupting her to prop him up. If he screwed up her big chance in order to help himself, there really would be damages and a conflict of interest. He needed to try to get his act together, himself, if he wanted to earn his life back. He exhaled again, pulling himself together. "Okay. Thanks." Finn stood, and his mom and Burt followed suit.

"Okay. And if you need anything, call." Hiram smiled, shook everyone's hand, and then showed them out.

* * *

At the start of the next week Finn went to LCC to start his first college classes, posting a quick status update about it once he arrived. One feature of not remembering three years of high school was that he probably wasn't quite as sick of going to classes as he might be otherwise, he realized. And the courses he'd picked had a purpose, unlike what he remembered of school previously he was taking this stuff because he felt he needed them for something.

Finn's motivations for the two courses were different. The writing course was specifically to see what he was capable of and give him more practice, but the psych course was more for interest, as well as giving him a start to see if he could manage college more seriously. Even the thought that he was taking a course because he was interested in it was unusual, but he was glad that there was something like this available. _One thing about having amnesia,_ he mused as he went to his first class, _it really makes me think about thinking._

Of course it wasn't going to go very deep into things, and this was just the first class, but Finn found himself getting quite interested in the list of topics on the course syllabus and in the background information on the history of psychology. There had been some very strange old ideas about minds. He took notes much more diligently than he could remember doing before, and at the end of class he sat for a moment as he made sure his organization was okay.

A girl who'd been sitting closer to the front walked over to him and stood there until he looked up.

"Hi," she said, giving him a big smile. "I'm Kayla."

Finn gave her a quick smile, still largely intent on his notes. "Finn."

She giggled. "I know. I'm from McKinley too, one of the Cheerios."

_Oh._ Finn was embarrassed, and looked up at her again. She didn't seem familiar at all, other than having the typical long bleached hair and dark even tan. A lot of girls made themselves look like that. "Sorry."

"No, that's all right. Everyone's heard, I mean about what happened to you. Lost three years and all that. Must suck."

"Ah, yeah. That's why I'm here really, trying to find my footing." He smiled ruefully. "I have a high school diploma but no memory of how I got it." She smiled back at him. "Uh, did I know you before?"

"In passing. Like I said, I was a Cheerio, so I spent two years cheering for you. Go Hudson!" Her smile widened as she chirped at him. "So, I was wondering if you wanted to work on some of this stuff together? I could maybe help you."

_Uh, is she flirting?_ "Ah, no thanks," Finn stammered. "I kinda need to find out what I can do on my own, it's important," he said.

"Oh." Her face fell for a split second, but her smile came back quickly. "Well we could just get together, if you'd like to," she continued, simpering at him. "I'm sure you could use some company."

_Yes she is coming on to me. And no thanks._ Finn didn't want to be rude, but he wasn't sure how else to give her a firm brush-off. He didn't need to deal with stuff like this along with the rest. "Well if you know about me you should know I'm involved with someone," he said. _Might as well be straight about it. I could start wearing that 'I heart NY' shirt Rachel sent, but that's probably way too subtle._

"Still? I mean, you forgot three years, haven't..." she trailed off, looking disappointed but still trying to flirt.

_What, she's trying to catch me when I'm down?_ "I don't want to forget," Finn stated plainly, his reticence vanishing in the face of the girl's obvious rudeness and attempt to take advantage of him. "I had a life and I want it back, I'm not looking for a new one." He shoved his notes away and got up abruptly.

"Sorry," she said, pouting, still attempting to charm.

"That's fine. Just... I'll see you_ in class_. Bye." He nodded at her, keeping it impersonal and holding in his annoyance at what she'd been trying to do. _Though I suppose I should expect some of it,_ he thought as he made for the exit. _And I wasn't turned on at all by that girl, helps me be sure that Rachel's really something special 'cause with her I feel like I've been electrified._

He looked over the psych syllabus again that night, noting that they would have a unit on memory in about six weeks. Still, he had the book, he could read ahead for what was probably the first time in his life, though it shouldn't be anything that the shrink hadn't been through with him. But Finn was getting very frustrated. He knew he had to relax, get things to feel natural again, like the doctor kept saying, but he wasn't used to being inactive. And he couldn't sit around and wait for his memory to come back, if it ever did, that'd just have more people treating him like that girl had, like he couldn't be the man he'd been before the accident. Like he'd been feeling when he'd talked to the lawyer (_Rachel's other dad_, he reminded himself) and heard all the stuff about damages, like he was damaged.

He didn't want to be damaged. Having found out what he could have had, he didn't want to settle for so much less.

_So don't be damaged_, he told himself. _You want a future? Get yourself one._ Finn went to his computer and dug up an email from a few weeks ago. He looked at it for a few minutes, marshalled his resolve, and wrote a short question in reply. _It doesn't hurt to try and get things going,_ he told himself. _It's just keeping my options open. And like Puck said, if I want to be eighteen-year-old me I should try doing what he's supposed to do._


	23. in memories they resonate

_A/N: more swearing than usual in this chapter, for reasons which should be apparent.  
Some have asked how long this story will be. It's a bit like a triathlon, and we're just into the run stage._

* * *

The next two weeks passed quickly. Finn got used to his classes, finding the writing hard work but manageable and the psychology increasingly interesting. They'd learned a bit about perception that echoed some of the things his shrink had told him, how what we think we see isn't necessarily what's there, and he took an odd sort of pleasure in reading about people with screwed-up perception due to brain damage. While he was still frustrated at his lack of memories, and daily changed his mind about whether his brief fragment of Rachel was a memory or just a fantasy, overall his brain really wasn't all that screwed up compared to what some others had to deal with. He didn't think he'd want to study that stuff long-term, but it was interesting to find out about.

Meanwhile, Finn wasn't the only local Glee alumnus who found something missing from his life. Though he'd hate to admit it, Puck had found something he actually missed about school – Glee Club meetings. The group of Glee misfits had been friends, people who cared about him beyond whether or not he could kick their asses or pull a prank with them. And he really missed performing. He was working on his guitar a lot, wondering if they could get some sort of band together sometime, but most of all he just missed kicking back and singing whatever he felt like. So when a new all-ages pub opened and word got around they were looking for activities to fill some of the less popular weeknights, Puck went to talk to the owner.

Easiest way to start was karaoke, and the pub had a machine, so one Tuesday night Puck arranged to use it and was helping set it up before the others arrived. He was just about to test it out when a noise at the door drew his attention, and, yeah, the place wasn't quite that wheelchair-accessible. He hurried over to the door to hold it for Artie.

"Hey, Puck," Artie said, rolling in.

"Good to see you, Wheels," Puck said, extending his fist for a dab. Artie grinned and touched his hand to Puck's. "You're the first one here."

"Well I know Tina said she's definitely coming. Who else?"

"Blaine swore he'd make it, can't pass up any opportunity to sing. Brit's busy with dance class. Not sure about the Irish Mafia, they said they want to but might have something going on. Next time, maybe. And Finn's coming by after he's done work."

"Finn!" Artie beamed. "That'd be great. Is that why you set this up, for Finn?"

"No, that's extra, it's 'cause I want to," Puck admitted. "I miss it, hanging around in the choir room singing stuff. Can't stand the school part, and I'm done anyway, so I figured we could do it like this." He shrugged. "The pub's new and they're trying to get their karaoke night going, so they're fine with us hanging out as long as we buy some food and don't screw their license up by drinking. And sing well, but for us that's easy. It's a weeknight, people won't be drunk enough to put up with too many crap renditions of emo and country songs like you hear at most places."

"Sounds like you've given this some thought," Artie said.

Puck shrugged. "Might be cool to own a bar, someday. Gotta know what works and what doesn't. I just have to test the machine out, so go pick us a table."

Tina showed up about five minutes later, followed fifteen minutes after that by Blaine.

"So is Finn coming?" Blaine asked, nodding towards the empty chair Puck had left between the two of them.

"He said he is, once he's done at the shop," Puck replied. "He's pulling longer hours now that Burt's back in DC."

"Think he'll sing?" Artie asked.

"He sings along to stuff," Tina offered. "When we went bowling he sang along to some of the music the alley was playing. He sounded good." She gave a cute smile. "Rachel joined in at the end, it was _so _sweet to hear them sing together again."

"I've heard him singing along too," Blaine said. "He didn't want to sing on his own though. I wouldn't have thought he'd be so reluctant, not Finn, but I guess he didn't sing in public back then. How did he get involved in Glee, anyway?"

"I think Mr. Schue coerced him," Artie said. "He got into it pretty quickly, though."

"Yeah, he told me at the time it was for extra credit, but a long time later he said Schue had blackmailed him." Puck frowned. "Not something we can really repeat, and he didn't have that much confidence singing until Berry got to him." He shrugged it off. "But look, if we're comfortable he'll be comfortable, so no pressure, just do your thing. And we'll have a good time, which is why I set it up anyway, and I want to keep doing it."

They went ahead and ordered food, and then started to sing while they waited for it. First up were Blaine and Tina, with some pop number Puck didn't recognize, something really new they wanted to try out to see if it was worth trying to do it for Glee. Next Artie gave them some MJ, Puck answered with some Billy Idol, and then they broke to eat.

They had just finished and the plates were mostly cleared when Tina, facing the door, lit up. "Finn!" They all turned to see Finn's tall form entering the pub, and they waved him over enthusiastically.

"About time you got here," Puck said.

"Hey. You guys weren't waiting for me, were you?" He shot a skeptical look at the table, which showed evidence of their meals.

"Nope," Puck said. "But I think they're hoping we'll order more food. You must be starving by now since you worked late, right?"

Finn laughed. "Nice to know what I'm good for," he said, grabbing the menu that still sat on the table and sitting in the vacant chair.

Puck chuckled. "I notice you didn't say you're not. Order at the bar when you're ready, it's faster."

Finn ordered himself some wings, and ate them while watching and listening to the others sing. He was clearly comfortable, relaxed and having a good time, appreciating the others' numbers, but even when he'd finished eating he made no move to do anything himself.

They then started some dedications, Blaine singing "They Can't Take That Away From Me" to the absent Kurt, followed by Tina singing "I'm Happy Just to Dance with You" for the absent Mike.

"I'm next," Puck said. He stopped by Finn's chair as he went to the stage. "Wanna join in, dude? It's simple, hell it's Kiss, they don't do complicated. You can help out with the choruses."

"Ah, okay," Finn grinned with a shrug. "What the hell, why not." They went to the stage and moved a couple of stools so they could both sit.

"This one's for my little girl," Puck announced, then he waited through the intro and started singing: (*)

_Beth, I hear you callin'  
But I can't come home right now  
Me and the boys are playin'  
And we just can't find the sound_

As he moved to the chorus, Finn joined in, smiling as he sang. And _shit_, that was harmony.

_Just a few more hours  
And I'll be right home to you  
I think I hear them callin'  
Oh Beth, what can I do?  
Beth, what can I do?_

As they moved into the next verse, Puck opened his mouth to sing, but stopped as he realized Finn was continuing on.

_You say you feel so empty  
That our house just ain't a home  
I'm always somewhere else  
And you're always there alone_

Puck listened to his friend, recognizing the quality of voice... and then had to stop his jaw from hitting the floor as Finn gave the verse's opening line the same ending inflection as he had two and a half years ago. _Holy shit, what the fuck is happening? _He glanced sidewise at Finn; he didn't seem to be zoning out, he was really doing this. Then he looked out to their friends, seeing Artie and Tina whispering to each other, their eyebrows raised, clearly having noticed this as well.

Puck pulled himself back into it just in time to join the chorus:

_Just a few more hours  
And I'll be right home to you  
I think I hear them callin'  
Oh Beth, what can I do?  
Beth, what can I do?_

Then Finn let Puck take over again, just like they'd done it before.

_Beth, I know you're lonely  
And I hope you'll be alright  
'Cause me and the boys  
Will be playin' all night, all night_

Puck released the last note slowly, but his mind wasn't on the song as much as what he'd heard from Finn, how he had sounded just like he had when they'd sung "Beth" in the choir room for Quinn. Did it mean anything? _Damned if I know._ Finn knew the song already, and the words were on the screen (not that either of them had needed to look at it). But he had sung it exactly the same as he'd sung it then. And now he was smiling, nodding over at Puck, seemingly fine. Not having gone automatic or reacting to memories, just as if they'd never done it before.

They went back to the table where the others waited, none of them moving to do another song.

"Did I sound okay?" Finn asked as he sat down. "You guys seemed a little weird."

"Uh, yeah, you were great," Tina said, trying to cover.

"It's just good to hear you sing again," Artie put in.

"Yes," Tina agreed, a little too cheerily. Puck gave her a warning look.

Finn smiled tentatively. "Well it felt good. I'll, uh, be right back." The others followed Finn with their eyes as he headed for the men's room, and then turned to each other.

"Okay, that was freaky," Artie blurted out.

"Yeah, it's like déjà vu only for sound," Tina agreed, shuddering.

"Déjà entendu?" Blaine offered, confused. "What's going on, guys?"

"We've sung it before," Puck said. "Exactly like that."

"And we do mean _exactly_," Artie said. "Same split, same harmonies, inflections, everything. And that 'empty' lift isn't like that in the original, that's Finn. Finn from before. Same with the chorus harmony, the whole thing's normally a solo."

"And he doesn't seem to have a clue," Tina added, puzzled.

"That's weird," Blaine said.

"No kidding." Puck exhaled. "I'm going to look in on him, see if I can find out how deep this goes or something."

Puck sauntered into the men's room and saw Finn standing at one of the urinals, his back to the door. "Hey dude," Puck said, trying to be nonchalant, checking the paper towel dispenser. Finn didn't reply. After a moment Puck went to another of the urinals himself, glancing over at his friend who stared ahead. "Hey –"

"Don't," Finn said curtly, still looking at the wall in front of him. "Seriously." Finn finished up and put himself away, then went to the sink, washed up, and left without a word.

When Puck finished and left the men's room, he saw Finn at the bar getting another coke, and tried to approach him again. "You okay? You kind of blew me off in there."

Finn flashed him a bit of a stinkeye. "Poor choice of words, dude," he said. "And if we've gotten to the stage where we stand around with our dicks out and start talking, then that's something I _don't_ want to remember."

Puck chuckled. "Yeah, okay, bad location. Sorry. You just seemed like you were thinking about something when you walked off."

"I guess." Finn paid for his coke, but he didn't move away from the bar.

"Anything you, uh...?" Puck asked hesitantly, not really wanting to get all girly and talk about feelings or ask if Finn 'wanted to talk about it'. 'Cause seriously, not their thing at all. He tried to remember what had been going on with Finn back when they'd sung this before – some of his problems with Kurt, wasn't it? How did he even remember that? Oh yeah, Finn in that shower curtain outfit was burned onto his eyes for all time, that's how. Puck shuddered at the remembered image. If this amnesia stuff wasn't so seriously screwing Finn up, he might have some fun teasing him about that.

"Thinking about you and Quinn, actually," Finn replied quietly, looking at his drink. "And your kid."

_Um... __**oh shit**__._ "You know I'm sorry about that whole thing," Puck said tentatively, wondering if he should go back to the others before Finn decided to go apeshit on him. Finn had taken finding out the full story about Beth unexpectedly calmly, but Puck had wondered for a while if something would click someday and he'd be on the receiving end of a fist again. But the dude did not look tense, at least not that kind of tense.

"Yeah, I know. It's not that, just... you really cared about her and your daughter, didn't you? And she cared about you."

"Yeah. Well I know I did, I can't be sure about her but I think so." Puck breathed more easily but his mind raced. _Okay, that's what I was doing with this song. We sang it to Quinn and that was kinda my point with it. _"It's all done though, we're just too different."

"Different's good. Can be, anyway. Being more the same on the outside sure didn't help her and me, it just seemed like it should be right but it wasn't."

Puck didn't know how to respond. _This is new. Like really new, we've never talked about this before ever. Probably a good reason for that, this is dangerous emotional shit. And is he remembering any of that stuff he's saying?_

Finn looked away, staring at the mirror behind the bar. "Like my new life, I got myself in a twist about this new family I suddenly had, missing my dad, getting a stepfather, gay stepbrother, all that. It's really different, but it's cool."

_Fuck. Yes. That's what was going on. He's got to be tapping into it. Right? _Puck looked down at the bar again, hiding the stunned look he was sure he had. _This is more than just singing the song the same way, it's connected to the other stuff too. And it's not autopilot, no way, he's really thinking about this __**now**__. But he doesn't know it's connected. Fuck. Now what?_

Now, apparently, was following Finn back to the table where the others were. _Okay. _He caught Artie's eye as they returned, and shook his head. Maybe they should tell Finn, but what? _Hey, maybe you're not getting a flashback but the rest of us sure are. __**No.**_ Puck had heard Finn vent about the instructions from his shrink, do stuff you used to but don't think about it, Finn said it made sense but he didn't see how he could do it. Now he was, or at least he was getting there, but the whole "don't think about it" bit would go away if he knew he was doing it.

So they smiled, talked about whatever, and the others kept picking out songs and singing them, back to how they'd been before. Then, as Tina was up singing "Heart of Glass", Puck turned back to Finn to see that he was looking in the song binder.

"Gonna give it a shot, dude?" he asked.

"Yeah, sure, why not," Finn said, still looking at the listings. "If I can find something I want to do. Can't be too much worse than you," he teased.

"You did sound pretty good."

"Yeah, I think I did. Guess my voice is still in shape." Finn frowned a little at the page, then nodded to himself. Tina finished, they all applauded, and then Finn took a very noticeable deep breath and made for the stage, to the surprise and encouragement of the rest of them.

Puck leaned back, ready to enjoy whatever Finn had picked out... then sat up, concerned, when he recognized the intro. Finn's stance behind the mike was tense. Then he started to sing: (**)

_It was a Monday  
A day like any other day  
I left a small town  
For the Apple in decay  
It was my destiny  
It's what we needed to do  
They were telling me  
I'm telling you_

_I was inside looking outside  
The millions of faces  
But still I'm alone  
Waiting, hours of waiting  
Paying a penance  
I was longing for home_

_I'm looking out for the two of us  
I hope we'll be here when they're through with us_

Finn's voice was good, but his face was practically a snarl, with his jaw set, forehead scrunched up and eyes narrowed. As he continued with the repeat, the fierceness eased, showing more of the pain he'd been masking with it. The longing came through in his voice as well.

_I was inside looking outside  
Oh the millions of faces  
But still I'm alone  
Waiting, hours of waiting  
I could feel the tension  
I was longing for home_

_I'm looking out for the two of us  
And I hope we'll be here when they're through with us  
I'm coming home_

The song had a sax solo, and Finn stood hunched at the mike, waiting, tapping his foot on the floor and his fingers against the mike stand, drumming along.

"He doesn't look that comfortable," Tina said quietly.

"You think?" Puck muttered. "Dude doesn't decide to sing 'Long Long Way From Home' unless he's got issues."

"Especially when he's lived in Lima his whole life," Artie put in.

"He's comfortable with singing," Blaine offered. "Whatever's going on with him, he's expressing it that way."

"Yeah."_ That's something,_ Puck thought. _A start, maybe. But is he just gonna have to deal with it, or can he fix it?_ He could feel the pain and frustration coming from his friend, and he wanted to help. Finn had seemed so close to breaking through, after they'd sung "Beth". They needed more like that, somehow, but how could they do it without Finn knowing?

As Finn started in on the coda, they couldn't doubt that he was expressing himself, getting out the frustration with himself and his situation that he felt.

_Monday, sad, sad Monday  
She's waiting for me  
But I'm a long, long way from home_

_Sad, sad Monday  
She's waiting for me  
But I'm a long, long way from home_

_Sad, sad Monday  
Oh she's waiting for me  
But I'm a long, long way from home_

Finn exhaled noticeably as the song finished, and he headed back to the table, his face unclenching. "Sorry if that got a bit intense," he said, giving a tight rueful smile and acknowledging his friends' applause. "Guess I have some stuff to work out."

"No kidding," Artie commented, but was shushed by Tina.

"Hey, that's what we do," Blaine said, nodding at Finn. "Got stuff bugging you, find a song and sing it out. We've all been there at some point, and it beats keeping it inside."

Finn nodded back, his smile more natural. "Cool." He turned to Puck. "So when do we do this again?"

"Every other week." Which could give them a chance to figure out what the fuck to do.

* * *

_* "Beth", as performed by Kiss, written by Peter Criss, Stan Penridge and Bob Enzin.  
** "Long Long Way From Home", as performed by Foreigner, written by Mick Jones, Lou Gramm and Ian McDonald._


	24. set the wheels in motion

The next week Puck met with Artie, Blaine and Tina at the Lima Bean, one afternoon once the other three had finished school for the day. He'd had little luck coming up with some music to help Finn remember, as most of the numbers he remembered Finn singing were either solos or duets with Rachel, or too complicated to use. There was just so much music, too much to remember, and some of it had been pretty strange.

"I just don't know what we can get him to do naturally," he said flatly, shaking his head. "'Beth' might have been the only one that would work."

"We did some other guy numbers," Artie said. "It was a fall thing, guys against girls."

"Mash-ups," Puck stated. "They'd be a good test I guess, if he could actually do it, but the music's been messed with so much that I don't know how we'd get it going. And he'd catch on once we start getting weird."

"Pity," Tina commented with a sigh. "He sang some of the 'Stop in the Name of Love' mash-up directly to Rachel, even if he didn't remember he might at least start feeling it."

"Madonna week?" Artie asked.

"As soon as you figure out how we explain to him that we want him to sing 'What it Feels Like for a Girl' with us," Puck said sarcastically. "And if it brings back how he felt then, he might get the urge to go have bad sex with Santana."

"At which point she decks him and we get to see if that solves things or makes them worse," Blaine said lightly. "I know, bad idea."

Puck exhaled. "I don't know what we can do," he said. "It's not really enough just to get him tapped into the related stuff, when I talked to him last week he just put it together with his life now instead of remembering anything. And from what he's said he's been told by the shrink, that could be worse since he's joining stuff together."

"Maybe a competition number," Blaine offered. "We do those more, over and over the week before at least, and Finn really comes alive when he's performing."

"Yes, that sounds much better, if anything works it'd be that," Tina agreed.

"You're right about Finn performing, he's really himself then." Puck rubbed his hand over his Mohawk, still trying to think. "But what? Almost all of our old stuff had Rachel," he objected.

"She'd come back in a heartbeat to help Finn," Artie said. "If she knew about this she'd be here already."

"And then what? He'd know we were up to something, either before or after, if it doesn't work." Puck still frowned.

"And so would she," Blaine said slowly, his face worried.

"How is Rachel doing?" Tina asked him.

Blaine frowned, then tried to smile. "She's doing brilliantly at NYADA," he said. "They're falling over themselves to work with her, and she's completely throwing herself into it." He sighed. "Kurt says he's never seen her more driven."

Artie stared. "That's scary."

Blaine nodded, grimacing. "Yes it is. She's been working on her dancing a lot, it's her weakness and she's determined to fix that, but Kurt thinks she's also trying to tire herself out so she falls asleep from exhaustion. He has a hard time helping her to hold herself together, sometimes." He exhaled. "At least since she's so busy it doesn't mess with his own studies, not really. But I thought we were going to have it tough, being apart this year, it's a walk in the park compared to what she's going through."

"So if we get her hopes up, and it doesn't work..." Puck muttered.

"Can't know for sure, but she's barely staying together _now_," Blaine replied.

"Okay, so no Rachel," Artie agreed. He smiled, an idea occurring to him. "Just like Sectionals last year." They exchanged looks around the table, starting to smile along with Artie as they realized he was right.

Blaine snapped his fingers. "'Man in the Mirror'," he exclaimed, leaning forward. "There's practically no choreo, even by Finn's standards, and it's an old song, so it'll just be about whether he remembers how to perform it. And if he walks through it just like we did it, same context and everything, that whole memory might connect with him more."

"Yes, that's it!" Tina cheered. They all looked at Puck, though, who was less enthused.

"What? We should be able to get Sam to come up, he'd make time for Finn, and I'm sure Mr. Schue can get the auditorium for us and arrange for the band," Artie said. "We can even get some of the new members to help out, it'd be good experience for them."

"And if we do it the Columbus Day weekend, Mike's going to be back," Tina added. "We can do it just like before. If anything's going to work, it would be that."

"So what's the problem?" Artie asked Puck, who still frowned.

"Finn starts it, dude. He's not going to be just into it." The others groaned. "Look, I want to do this," Puck said. "But we gotta get it right or he'll stiffen up and make everything worse." They all looked at each other, acknowledging Puck's point but hoping for an answer.

"So... we start with 'Control'," Blaine said tentatively. "That's mostly myself and Artie, and Tina can pick up Quinn's intro. Finn's only in the background, so he can sing along and do the choreo if he can. He put a lot of time into the moves at booty camp, at least some of that has to have become innate."

"And then?" Puck asked.

"We hope for the best," Blaine answered. "Look, I had some computer trouble last year, and once I got it fixed and had everything set up again, I'd lost this really great playlist that I'd put together. I was annoyed, it was a favorite. But then I was listening to one of the songs I'd had in it, and as it ended I just knew what came next. Eventually I rebuilt the whole thing that way." He paused. "And that might already be working for Finn. Something might have happened one night before Rachel left, she sang an old solo of hers and then some stuff happened that Kurt said reminded him of when she'd sung it before. Including Finn singing along to the song that came next in that set list. We don't know for sure what happened, but according to Burt Finn was the one who suggested playing that band. Almost like he knew what came next, somehow."

"I guess that sounds like a plan," Puck said, his tension easing. "But we don't tell Finn what we expect him to do, okay? He steps forward and starts his line, great. He doesn't, and we end it at 'Control', the band can play the intro out. If he knows, even afterwards, he'll just get stressed out about it, and as soon as he tightens up the chance is gone."

"Right," Artie said. "And don't tell him about Sam, who he is I mean. He's just a nameless guy who's part of the number until Finn says otherwise."

"Okay," Puck agreed.

* * *

Puck called Sam that night and told him what was going on; Sam was enthusiastic at being able to do anything to help Finn out, he'd heard what had happened and been frustrated that he couldn't help before. He arranged to come up Friday night of the upcoming long weekend, when Mike would be back too.

While plans were falling into place for their run-through, there was still another karaoke night the next Tuesday. Puck kept it to just the five of them, not wanting someone like Sugar to come and possibly screw things up by saying the wrong thing (girl was a genius at saying the wrong thing, and honestly Rory wasn't that much better when you could understand him; he had no idea how the two of them had stayed together so far).

It was a good night, relaxed, all of them having fun despite being a bit on edge. They'd agreed to just go with the flow, take opportunities to get Finn to do something that should be familiar but not push it on him. They all got hopeful, though, when Finn got up to sing and he'd left the song list open to the J artists.

"Think he's going to do some Journey?" Artie asked Puck with an excited grin. Puck smiled back, but tightly, not wanting to distract Finn. The intro sure sounded like Journey, but not one he remembered them doing in Glee. Finn knew a _lot_ of Journey songs.

Puck realized which one it was just as Finn started to sing, working through some of his angst again: (*)

_Winter is here again oh Lord,  
Haven't been home in a year or more  
I hope she holds on a little longer  
Sent a letter on a long summer day  
Made of silver, not of clay  
I've been runnin' down this dusty road_

_Wheel in the sky keeps on turnin'  
I don't know where I'll be tomorrow  
Wheel in the sky keeps on turnin'_

Artie groaned. "Can't we at least encourage him to sing 'Don't Stop'?" he asked Puck. "It's like our anthem."

Puck shrugged. "Could give it a shot, I guess. I swear I'm this close to punching in the damn numbers for him next time to see what we can get him to sing instead." He concentrated on at least trying to seem to enjoy the number; Finn sounded great, actually, if Puck could ignore how much his friend was using the song to express his frustration. _Dude's been fighting his own head and it's killing him that it's not working_, Puck thought. _That damn plan has to work, at least do something._

_I've been trying to make it home  
Got to make it before too long  
I can't take this very much longer  
I'm stranded in the sleet and rain  
Don't think I'm ever gonna make it home again  
The mornin' sun is risin'  
It's kissing the day_

_Wheel in the sky keeps on turnin'  
I don't know where I'll be tomorrow  
Wheel in the sky keeps on turnin'_

They all applauded loudly for Finn as he finished, Blaine calling out "Encore! Encore!" Finn gave a sheepish smile and started to come back to the table.

"Actually I could use hearing a bit more Journey, if you're up for it," Artie said encouragingly. "It's kind of a club thing, Mr. Schue went into it in a big way at one point."

"Ah, okay," Finn said, still smiling, turning back to the machine. "I know their stuff cold, have since I was a kid, just give me a code. Something more upbeat, I think I've vented enough for now."

Puck tried to not look too eager as he grabbed the book and looked up the code for "Don't Stop Believin'". "Three eight nine zero," he called out, and once Finn punched in the numbers they heard the familiar opening music and saw Finn grin as he recognized it. _Now let's see what happens_, Puck thought. Finn started to sing, a small smile on his face: (**)

_Just a small town girl  
Livin' in a lonely world  
She took the midnight train  
Goin' anywhere_

They all watched Finn intently, smiling at him to cover their interest. And as the next phrase was due to start, they saw him look to his right, and pause... and then stumble back into singing, late and a little faint, apparently rattled at missing the cue.

_Just a city boy  
Born and raised in South Detroit  
He took the midnight train  
Goin' anywhere_

Finn settled back down into the song and kept going, showing no impact of his brief lag.

"It needs Rachel," Tina whispered. "He was waiting for Rachel, even if he didn't know it."

"Yeah," Puck breathed. Finn seemed to be over it now, though, continuing on.

_A singer in a smokey room  
A smell of wine and cheap perfume  
For a smile they can share the night  
It goes on and on and on and on_

_Strangers waiting  
Up and down the boulevard  
Their shadows searching  
In the night  
Streetlight people  
Livin' just to find emotion  
Hidin', somewhere in the night_

Finn was really getting into the song, moving around and getting his body into it, though of course he'd known it since he was a kid, he was the one to get them to sing it in the first place. And as a drummer, Finn always moved to the beat. But at the held note on "night" he stretched his hand out to the sky.

"That's the choreography," Artie whispered. "Rachel came up with that the first time we did it."

At this point all they could do was try to enjoy the rest of Finn's performance and wonder. He was obviously having a good time.

They cheered loudly when he finished, and he grinned and came quickly back to the table. "Haven't sung that for a long time but I still love it," he said, sitting down. "Sorry about that stumble, I don't know, I just didn't think about coming in. Must've gotten too much into the music and didn't remember to sing at first."

Tina quickly excused herself to go to the washroom, hiding her tears. Puck strangled the groan he wanted to give. _That's why he can't know_, he told himself. _It's frustrating enough for us to know that it's not quite working, he'd be a wreck._

* * *

Finn was definitely enjoying singing with them, so it wasn't hard for Blaine to convince him to come to the "little run-through for old and new members" that they had planned. He wasn't too excited about the dancing, but was reassured that he'd be in the back, and anyway this was something he used to do so he did want to get back into it. Puck walked him through it a few times, since most of the time they mirrored each other, and Finn seemed reasonably comfortable.

As the Columbus Day weekend approached, everything looked to be in order. Mr. Schue was enthusiastically on board, the Jazz Band was available and properly instructed on what to do, Sam and Mike were both coming back. It all looked good for the run-through on Saturday. But early Wednesday afternoon Puck got a text from Blaine: **Bad news. School won't let us have the auditorium.**

He didn't see how they'd get Finn sucked into it as a rehearsal if they had to do it outside the school, and after what had happened on "Don't Stop" Puck was increasingly sure that they had to imitate the original as much as possible for their best chance.

_Shit._

* * *

_* "Wheel in the Sky", as performed by Journey, written by Robert Fleischman, Neal Schon and Diane Valory.  
** "Don't Stop Believin'", as performed by Journey, written by Jonathan Cain, Steve Perry and Neal Schon.  
_


	25. even though you're going through hell

_A/N: Since someone's commented on my titles: they're all quotes from Rush songs. I'll have a list at the end, I don't want to break the story up by talking about each one as I go. - HLine_

* * *

Just after lunchtime, in the NYADA quad, Paul Tervo looked over at the table where Rachel Berry was working, that beautiful girl he'd known for just over a month. He had to admit that it was stretching things to say that he knew her, certainly he wanted to but she always kept him at arm's length or even further. But Rachel Berry was intriguing, and he knew her about as well as he could without actually stalking her. He'd seen her around town a bit, occasionally by the Lake in Central Park, but he knew better than to start following her. He was interested in her but not obsessed.

Still, ever since he'd seen her look in his direction at the NYADA opening mixer, he'd wanted to know her better, much better. It wasn't just that she was incredibly talented, even by NYADA standards, with a beautiful voice and amazing energy, or had impressive dedication. Or her arresting unconventional beauty, matched with a trim body. Her artistic endeavors showed a passion that she seemed to reserve for them alone, hinting dramatically at vast depths beneath the surface. Sure, she went to the usual NYADA social occasions and interacted with the other students, a charming smile usually on her face, but that was as far as she went; he wasn't the only man whose overtures had been rebuffed, always emphasizing her focus on her work and her complete lack of intention to date. She had no interest in women either.

Rachel held herself so tightly as a person, in such contrast to the passion of her singing, that Paul was often put in mind of a line in E.M. Forster's _A Room with a View_:  
'If Miss Honeychurch ever takes to live as she plays, it will be very exciting both for us and for her.'

He smiled again at the thought, looking at her working so seriously. _If Miss Rachel Berry ever takes to live as she sings, it will be very exciting both for us and for her. _And he hoped that by _us_ it would be himself. She had such passion, it needed to be let out for living and loving, not just walled up for her art. She'd had a broken romance in the past, of that he was sure, he'd seen some underlying pain in her eyes when they'd first met. She masked it well but it had never fully gone away. But the death of first love was the worst illusion, she'd obviously decided she could never love again and wasn't going to try. Paul wanted to change her mind, and he fancied he could, given a chance; she'd certainly reacted to him back at the mixer, and she was too enticing a prize for him to stop trying without giving it his full effort.

But he hadn't had much chance with her, she was so rarely available to talk to. If she wasn't being distant or completely preoccupied with her focus on practicing her singing and dancing, her roommate and classmate Kurt was almost always with her. The younger man was clearly gay, no competition there, and word had gotten around that he had a boyfriend back home who they hoped would get in next year. Which unfortunately left him free to monopolize Rachel's limited free time, whenever Paul saw her on or near campus it was a safe guess that Kurt was close by. He didn't see him now, though, so this was a chance to take.

He walked up to the table where she was working. "Hello Rachel," he said warmly, smiling down at her.

She glanced up at him briefly. "Hello, Paul." She looked back at her work – she was making notes on the score for a song. "Did you want something?" she asked, her voice disinterested.

"I was wondering if you wanted to go for coffee."

"I have coffee," Rachel replied, gesturing at the tall thermos cup next to her. Her eyes stayed on her score.

"Going for coffee isn't just about getting the coffee."

"Well anything else isn't available." She looked up at him at that point, frowning.

"I know, you've said. You don't date."

"That's right. I'm concentrating on my studies and my career." Her voice was flat, like she had said this a hundred times.

"Bull."

"Excuse me?" That broke her flatness, at least.

"You've been hurt, you're scared. But you don't need to be frightened of me." He sat down next to her and put his hand on hers, but she moved away immediately.

"Don't touch me."

"Don't wall yourself off from life. You're an artist, you need to live," Paul cajoled. He did really mean that; sure, he was intrigued by her and attracted to her, but he also thought he'd be good for her. Even if things didn't last long she'd at least start moving on from the failed romance that had her believing that her heart was never going to feel anything other than pain.

She frowned at him, upset. "Why are you bothering me?"

"Rachel..." Paul put two fingers under her chin, but she pulled away, her face pained. "I see that sadness in your eyes, clouding that sweet face, and..." he gave her his best dazzling-yet-sympathetic smile. "I think I can make that sadness go away, if you'll give me the chance." She looked emotional but didn't move away, so he pressed on. "Just come out with me. Live a little again."

Rachel turned her head down to the table, her eyes closed, and simply breathed for a few moments. Paul waited, not wanting to push too far. His line was pretty corny, but it did seem to have had an impact on her. Then her head came up again, and she looked at him, a hard spark in her eyes, her expression tight.

"I thought you were studying to be an actor, Paul." Her voice was sharp.

"Uh, yes," Paul responded, still trying to project confidence despite the unexpected response. He hadn't necessarily expected her to be completely receptive, but he didn't see what being an actor had to do with it.

"Well I need a neurologist." She breathed hard, her emotions rising up. "I need a groundbreaking neurologist who can bring a man's memory back, because that's what it's going to take to make my sadness go away. You don't happen to know any, do you? Or even about anyone like that, I'm sure I can make the introductions myself if I have to. A name, _anything_, I'll track them down." She spoke rapidly and passionately, her remote facade cracking.

This wasn't what Paul had been expecting at all; there was obviously a lot more going on with Rachel Berry than the failed romance that he'd figured. "Um, excuse me," he said, his confidence vanishing, "but what...?"

Rachel stood and rose to her full height, which wasn't much, but the energy she was projecting made her seem like a giant. She fished out the chain from around her neck and held it towards him, showing what she carried on it – a small diamond ring. "See this?" she burst out. "The love of my life gave me this."

Okay, an engagement ring and a lost love, that was more like what he'd been expecting. So what was all this about a neurologist?

"He gave me this, and we were going to be together _forever_, and then some self-involved _asshole_ was in too much of a hurry on the highway and ran us off the road, and now he doesn't remember me or any of our life together." Tears flowed from her eyes as her voice rose until she was essentially screaming. They were in the quad, and people were staring, and she either didn't notice or didn't care. "So unless you can show me where I can find someone who can bring him back to me, some genius neurologist or an eccentric with a time machine, don't give me this _**crap**_ about making my sadness go away!"

Paul looked up at her, seeing the tears on her face. "I – Rachel, I'm sorry," he stumbled, scrambling for some way to rescue his approach. He'd wanted to unleash her passion, but not like this. Still, now that she was letting her vulnerability show, she might be more approachable. He rose to stand in front of her, smiling down at her with a mix of charm and compassion. "That's awful, but you can't let that make you give up on the rest of the world. You have to go on with your life, don't you?"

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize you were intending a career as an understudy," she retorted, rapidly pulling her things together and stowing them in her shoulder bag. "I wish you luck in your plan to be second best for the rest of your life, wondering if tonight the real star will show up to take his rightful place."

"Oh, I'm not understudy material," he insisted, still smiling at her, trying to lay on the charm a little more heavily so she wouldn't leave. "I'm Paul Tervo, leading man." He stepped closer to her, looming over her but looking down with a warm smile, glad to see that she didn't step back. He'd be able to kiss her if he bent down. But he shouldn't, not yet, she was too agitated. He needed to relax her more, get past her anger to the passion that lay behind it. She'd be even more amazing to be with than he'd thought before, if he could manage to get her to let him in.

She didn't step back at first; instead, she started to shout in his face. So much for getting her to relax and let him in. "Well I'm Rachel Berry. I know what I want, and I don't settle for second best, either _being_ it or _having_ it." She took two steps back and took a deep breath, her voice more quiet but still intense as she continued to tell him off. "If what you want is a girl who's really in love with another man, where you'll always have to wonder if someday he's going to show up to take her away from you, then I can't help you. You may want to try a psychiatrist who specializes in dealing with emotional masochists." She frowned. "Alternatively, if you're just interested in finding someone vulnerable that you couldn't really be expected to commit to, then do us all a favor and jump into the East River." She turned away.

He gave a slightly self-mocking grimace. "The Hudson's closer."

Rachel winced, turning slightly back to him. "The Hudson's too good for you."

Well she'd at least put a lot of energy and cleverness into telling him to go away. That was something, right? "You actually think one river is better than the other?" Paul laughed. "Please don't walk away mad. Okay, I pushed too far, I was just giving it a shot. You can't blame a man for trying."

"For not taking 'no, go away' for an answer? _Yes we can._" Two young women came up to him from the right, stepping between him and Rachel. One, the speaker, was medium build with pale skin and short curly red hair; the other was taller, with caramel-coffee skin and shoulder-length straight dark hair. More musical theatre majors, older ones, the pair known sometimes as 'M and M', though usually not to their faces. They were lively, but did not suffer fools.

Rachel turned back to them in surprise as the dark girl spoke. "Check the regulations, Tervo, and stop harassing girls before you get too far over the line."

"And you're wasting your time with musical theater majors, since you can't carry a tune in a bucket," the red-haired one chimed in.

It occurred to Paul that they might have a point – singers often went on and on about 'deep connections' from singing together. Maybe that was why he'd never had much luck with the musical theater girls, despite the lack of competition from the mostly gay musical theater boys. He looked between the two arrivals to see Rachel, who looked relieved. He tried to look hopefully at her, but she met his eyes briefly and shook her head with a frown.

"I'm concentrating on my studies, Paul," Rachel stated. "You need to do the same, if you think you're going to be anyone's leading man, _ever_. Mine is already cast."

"And you have somewhere else to be," the red-haired girl told him.

Paul sighed. This wasn't going anywhere. "I really am sorry," he said to Rachel, putting his best contrite puppy look on his face. Maybe he could salvage some of his image at least, this wasn't going to look good for him. "I hope it all works out, Rachel. Take care." With that he beat a rapid retreat.

* * *

"So," the red-haired girl said as the two older girls turned around to face Rachel. "That was really impressive. Rachel, right?"

Rachel smiled ruefully, but was very glad to see the last of Paul Tervo. "Yes," she said, clearing her throat. "Rachel Berry."

"Amanda Connolly," the red-haired girl replied, "and this is Megan DiTonno."

"Hi," Megan waved. "We're juniors. Musical theatre, like you – we saw your solo first day, it was quite something."

"Very emotional but still controlled," Amanda put in. "I don't know how you can still sing like that with all that coming out of you, it's a good thing we're two years ahead of you because we're going to need that head start." She grinned. "Or at least Meg will. I'm an alto."

Rachel blushed and smiled at them, her pulse starting to slow down after her rant. "Thank you. It's very good to meet you, Amanda, Megan."

"Well we had to meet you after we heard your rant just now," Amanda said. That's certainly an innovative way of dealing with persistent guys like that."

"How did you come up with that line, anyway?" Megan asked.

"Ah... what line?"

Megan waved her hands. "The whole 'the love of my life can't remember me and you could only ever be second best' angle. The ring is a particularly nice touch."

Rachel stared at them. They thought she was making it up? Though it did seem rather unbelievable, she supposed. She bit her lip. "I didn't make that up."

The others in the quad had largely gone back to whatever they were doing, but a figure suddenly rushed through them.

"Rachel." Kurt flew at her and hugged her tightly. "Oh God, I heard, I'm so sorry I wasn't here."

"That's okay," Rachel said, hugging him back. They broke apart and she wiped her eyes again.

"Are you sure?" Kurt looked at her with concern.

"Yes. It's actually good to let it out sometimes."

"If you say so."

"Um..." Amanda quietly reminded Rachel that she and Kurt weren't alone. "Hi," she said, giving Kurt a small wave.

"Oh, yes." Rachel turned back to the two new girls she'd met. "Kurt, this is Amanda, and Megan. They're juniors in our program. Kurt here is freshman musical theatre like me, we're roommates and have been close friends for years."

"Hello," Kurt said.

"So this whole 'my fiance has forgotten me' thing – it's _real_?" Amanda looked at Kurt in shock. "You know about that?"

Kurt glanced at Rachel, who nodded to him. "Oh, it's real," he said. "He's my brother, actually. Stepbrother. He was supposed to move to New York with us until it happened."

"Oh," Amanda breathed, looking over at Rachel, sympathy etched on her face. Rachel was still holding her ring; she'd started to tuck the chain back into her dress but she couldn't help but stop and look at the ring, tears in her eyes. Amanda exchanged a glance with Megan, both of them astonished to find out that Rachel's rant had been true, that she'd actually been dealing with such a horrible and bizarre situation.

"Is it okay if I show them?" Kurt asked her softly. Rachel nodded silently. He pulled his iPad out of his bag and quickly brought up an article that was saved on it. The two girls read it together, the article from the July 7th Lima News describing the accident that had put newly graduated McKinley High football quarterback and show choir lead Finn Hudson into a coma.

"Coma?" Megan asked.

"Four days," Kurt answered. "But when he woke up he'd lost almost three years. He didn't know either of us."

They read on, finding more information about this young man. He was the stepson of first-term U.S. Congressman Burt Hummel. And, walking away from the crash: his fiancée Rachel Berry, star of the National High School Show Choir Champions, the New Directions from McKinley High.

Megan looked up. "So all that rant of yours, that was real," she stated. Rachel nodded. "Well I must admit I was a bit more impressed when I thought you'd made it up and were acting," she went on, "but – whoa. That's truly awful. And no wonder you didn't want to put up with Tervo's persistent come-ons."

"I just couldn't stand it any more," Rachel admitted. "He acts like he's God's gift and takes 'not interested' as a challenge. The way he touched my chin was the last straw, it felt dirty to have a hand on my face that wasn't Finn's." She sighed. "But it was very cathartic to come out with it like that, I've never just let it loose before."

"You realize everyone will know now," Kurt said.

"Having them not know wasn't working particularly well." Rachel sighed again. "I'll just go on with my work as usual."

"So all you can do is hope that his memory comes back?" Amanda asked.

"Not all," Rachel said, a look of determination crossing her face. She gave her ring a last look and finally put it away.

"Rachel is not known for just waiting," Kurt commented. "Or giving up."

"We were starting to reconnect, before I had to come here," Rachel said softly, intensely, giving voice to the hope she had. "Even if he doesn't remember, there's still something there."

"That does sort of sound like waiting, though, especially since he's not in New York," Megan said. "Tervo's asshattery aside, don't you think you should move on at some point? It's certainly a very dramatic situation, but don't you need someone in your life? They're not all jerks."

"It's only been since July," Rachel insisted. "He's trying, I know he is. And I'm always very busy. And..." her voice trailed off. "I don't need a boyfriend, I don't need to fill a slot in my life with just _someone_," she stated. "I need _Finn_. And he's still Finn. We'll work this out, we have to. I won't give up on him, not after just three months and _not ever_."

Amanda smiled. "She's an 'accept no substitutes' girl, Meg," she said to her friend. "You have to respect that. _Nunc et semper._"

"Church Latin doesn't make you more profound, 'Mand, but I take your point," Megan replied, rolling her eyes at her friend before turning back to the others. "I'm somewhat more... flexible about these things," she said to Rachel and Kurt, "but each to their own. And us ex-show-choir divas have to stick together, if only to shock everyone else because they're so sure we could never get along." She flashed a big smile. "I used to sing lead for Harmonic Resonance, from Tacoma. We placed second at Nationals in 2010 when I was a senior."

"To Vocal Adrenaline," Kurt commented.

Megan winced. "Yes. All style, no substance, we thought, especially their lead, but we just couldn't beat them. I don't know what it is about you kids from the Midwest, but you certainly know how to sing."

"We were in their region that year," Kurt said. "And we certainly agree about their lack of passion."

"Passion." Megan laughed. "Apparently the next year there was a team at Nationals that had passion to burn." She nudged Amanda's arm. "I told you about that, didn't I?" She turned back to Kurt and Rachel, recounting excitedly. "I didn't see it, of course, since I was a freshman here, though Nationals was in New York and I could have gone if we hadn't been so busy. But I did meet up with some of my old choir-mates later, and they told me about this one couple that got so into their duet that they started making out on stage." Kurt and Rachel looked uncomfortable. "Not really making out, I suppose," she explained, a bit thrown by their reaction. "But they kissed, pretty seriously. Rumor had it that they were a couple reuniting. Heavy stuff. The judges didn't like it, of course, but hey, young love."

Kurt sighed. "We know."

"Of course, you were probably there," Amanda put in. "Did you make finals that year?"

"We were right there," Rachel said, her smile tight. "I was most definitely _right there_."

Megan stared, realizing what Rachel's emphasis meant. "You're kidding."

"No."

"That – that was _you_?"

"And Finn. Yes."

"_Oh._" Megan and Amanda sighed together.

"You two are _epic_," Megan said. "That kiss, then you won last year, now this..." she handed Kurt his iPad back. "I don't know what the NYADA gossips will make up about you, and they will, but it can't be as big as what you've lived."

Rachel flushed. "I just hope the gossip doesn't encourage more jerks."

Megan and Amanda exchanged a glance. "Oh I think we can ensure that the jerks do something else," Megan said. "We may not have quite the righteous rant that you do, but we can keep them off when we want to."

"And we usually want to," Amanda chimed in.

"You would do that for me?" Rachel's mask slipped, and the lonely yearning girl inside looked out for a moment.

"Girl, you have been through hell, and somehow you're still going and singing up a storm to boot. The last thing you need to deal with is slick wannabes on the make." Megan put her arm around Rachel. "You're with us."

"If the pair of you can put up with us," Amanda teased, including Kurt as well.

Kurt looked at Rachel, who was starting to relax and smile at these overtures of friendship. "I think we can manage that," he said. "We could use things being a little less epic at this point."

* * *

_A/N: much thanks to **OmniHelix** for our discussions that inspired Kurt's last line.  
I encourage you to read his fic, it's wonderful._


	26. find the minds that made us strong

_A/N: worth noting again that this is slightly AU, since I've messed with a few end-of-season details as given below.  
_

* * *

Puck was furious when he read the text from Blaine saying that they couldn't get the auditorium after all. They needed that damned auditorium. And it belonged to Glee Club, April Rhodes had paid for it for them, so what the hell was going on? He broke a few speed limits as he drove to McKinley, determined to get rid of whatever was getting in their way.

Hard to believe he was back in these halls, even harder to believe he was going to the principal's office willingly. He spotted Blaine hovering outside the office door.

"Mr. Schue and Ms. Pillsbury are with Principal Figgins now," Blaine said as Puck came up to him. "I'm not sure what's going on, but apparently it's something about the school's insurance."

"Insurance?" _Who the hell worries about insurance?_ Puck stared at Blaine, who shrugged. "Screw waiting," Puck said, and stormed into the office.

"What the hell is going on?" Puck fumed at the people in the room: Will Schuester, Emma Pillsbury, and Principal Figgins. "It's a Saturday morning in the auditorium and I know Glee has first dibs."

Figgins glared at the intruder. "But this isn't a Glee event, and the school insurance won't cover it," he stated.

"This is _bullshit_," Puck shouted.

"Control yourself, Mister Puckerman," Figgins droned.

"Or what? I've graduated. Yeah, I actually got my fucking high school diploma from this shithole, I'm even proud of it if you can believe that, and now you're treating the dude that helped me do it like he's garbage, not worth the trouble to help, and you want me to _control myself?_ _**No fucking way.**_"

"It's not our role to do things like that, this is a high school," the principal replied, staring insistently back at Puck, then casting his gaze over the others in the room.

"No, Puck's right, Principal Figgins," Will said. "A lot of people here owe a lot to Finn Hudson, myself included, it's not right that we don't help him when he needs it."

"It's out of my hands, Will. It's not a school sanctioned event and our insurance won't cover it."

"It's singing a few songs," Emma protested.

"It's an ad-hoc intervention for a young man who's seeing a psychiatrist. The potential liability –"

Puck leaned over the principal's desk. "_Do not talk about Finn like he's a nutjob._"

Figgins leaned back, looking apologetic. "My words were poorly chosen. But without talking to his doctor, I am concerned that whatever you are planning could cause trouble, and expose the school to risk from which we see no benefit. No matter how sympathetic I am to Mister Hudson's plight, I have a responsibility to the school and the district."

Will grumbled and was about to say something, but was stilled by Emma's hand on his arm.

"Of course you have a responsibility," Emma said. "And especially now, when things have turned around so well for the school and its image, I can see that you don't want to risk any of the progress we've made here at McKinley."

Puck stepped back and gave her a look of anger and betrayal. She gave a slight wave to caution him not to interrupt, her face intent as she looked back at Figgins.

"I was glad to hear that the district looked so favorably at the data I provided you on last year's graduating class, it must be a real feather in your cap to be able to show all that success," Emma continued. Figgins gave a small demurring smile, which she returned with a seemingly innocent one. "In fact, why don't you bring up that graduation table we worked on?"

"I hardly think these are the circumstances..." Figgins frowned.

"Nonsense, these are perfect circumstances. I can bring in a copy if you have a hard time finding it, after all it is the data from my office," Emma went on. Puck was puzzled, his face set as he watched her; Will was starting to smile, having realized where she was going with this.

Figgins continued to frown, but he went to one of the folders on his desk and brought out a piece of paper with a table of numbers, showing the number of McKinley seniors from the 2011-2012 school year, broken down by their status: did not complete, graduated but not in college, local college, college in Ohio, college in a neighboring state, college outside of the region. Two bar graphs showed the results proportionally compared to the district and state averages and to the previous two years at McKinley, both showing a very favorable comparison for that year's results.

"Yes, that's the one," Emma said, stepping forward to Figgins's desk, moving Puck out of the way with a light touch on his arm. "And I remember you saying, just last week, how impressed the school board was with these results, how it was really counteracting the whole 'Lima Loser' stereotype and even encouraging families to move to the area, now that they see that we can help their children find a future. And I've certainly noticed many more students with greater ambitions for their lives. Success is catching."

"That's right," Will joined in. "It's even starting to affect house prices." He gave a small grimace. "Which is annoying, we've been looking and we're going to have to pay more thanks to our own success, but the agent did say something about it being partly due to the school."

"Fine, yes, of course," Figgins said. "But what is your point, Ms. Pillsbury?"

Emma smiled. "My point is that these are numbers but they're also people. And as guidance counselor, I know who those people are and what it took for them to get where they are now." She tapped the first two numbers. "Noah here is already attesting that he, at least, might have been in the 'dropout' instead of 'graduated' number if not for Finn and for Glee Club, that's right, isn't it Noah?"

Puck cleared his throat. "Yes. Definitely."

Emma nodded. "Now let's consider some of the others. Neighboring states – well there's Santana Lopez, she's in Kentucky. Of course her scholarship is for cheer, but it's performing in general that interests her. And Sam Evans, out-of-state is a bit of a technicality since his family moved, but he was dropping out to work before he was convinced to come back to McKinley. So that's two for Glee Club." Figgins nodded, and Emma went on, tapping the "college outside the region" number. "This one's so impressive, don't you think? Especially given how things used to be. Hardly anyone from McKinley used to go outside of Ohio for college, and most of those just went to a neighboring state. The athletes have all stayed in state, as usual, except for Rick Nelson at Michigan." She smiled at the clearly discomfited Figgins, her eyes hard. "What does this say? The number."

Figgins cleared his throat. "Seven."

"Yes, that's what I think is there too. The previous year it was zero. I see you went with the full seven, instead of six." She gave him a pointed frown. Puck looked at her with an expression bordering on awe; he'd clearly underestimated her.

"Ah..." Figgins looked uncomfortable.

"Why don't I count those people off for you," Emma said, her smile returning. "West to East." She paused. "One. Mercedes Jones, UCLA vocal program, Glee club diva. Two. Jake Davies, also at UCLA, in their jazz music program. Guitarist from Jazz Band; he's very talented, of course, but I happen to know that on his application he highlighted the wide experience he's had backing up the Glee singers, week after week of a wide variety of music, and he won a full scholarship that was very competitive. He wouldn't have been able to afford to go without it." She took a deep breath, her smile gone. "Closer to home, number Three, Mike Chang studying dance at Columbia College Chicago. This one's arguable, I suppose, since he would have been heading out of state anyway, and perhaps you'd like it even more if he had gone to medical school instead of dance school, but he's following his dream, he's happier and much more likely to succeed."

Figgins gave a small nod and a frown, as if to concede her point.

"Moving to the East Coast. Four, Quinn Fabray at Yale. Ivy League, that's amazing coming out of Lima Ohio. Of course Quinn's always been bright, but she's had to overcome a lot, and I remember that three years ago her entire college ambition was to cheer at Ohio State." She swallowed, starting to tear up as her count progressed. "Five and Six, Kurt Hummel and Rachel Berry, both at NYADA, the top musical theater program in the country. Two out of only twenty in the incoming class, and I _know_ you've made a big deal about _that_. Rachel was always New York bound, Kurt who knows, but the Nationals win was instrumental in getting them both into NYADA. Which brings me to number seven –" Emma choked back a sob, and felt Will's hand grip hers in support. She blinked back tears.

"Number Seven, who I see you decided to count anyway, _Finn Hudson_, City University of New York, current status deferred. Guess you're not giving up on him after all, though a few minutes ago you sure fooled me." Emma turned aside and wiped her eyes, her litany over. Will squeezed her hand and stepped forward to finish the argument.

"I've said a lot of times that Glee Club changes lives for the better. I know it changed mine, and right there you can see that the bulk of your impressive and improved statistics, what's raising the profile of this school and the ambitions of its students, is due to the support of Glee Club. A Glee Club that almost died twice within a few months of it starting, but kept going because one young man stepped up when he was needed, despite how difficult it was for him."

"Three times," Puck said, drawing a quizzical look from Will. "No details right now, but trust me, it's three times. At least."

Will nodded at Puck, then turned back to Figgins. "Now I'm not asking for more money for Glee – at least not right now, maybe I should – but I'm asking for your help. Maybe that's harder to do. But we owe Finn Hudson. There's something so wrong with our taking the benefit of what he's done but leaving him behind. He can't ask for this, he can't even know what's going on, and yes, we're just trying something on our own. But we think it could help him, and we need the auditorium."

Figgins sighed. "But what about the insurance? It only covers school activities."

Will looked over at Puck again. "Well what did you tell Finn is going on, Puck? You must have told him something to get him to come."

Puck shrugged. "Glee rehearsal, running through some old numbers with the new choir members to give them some experience. He's been getting back into singing so we talked him into participating and showed him the moves he needs for the first number. That's the only one he knows about, and that'll be where it ends unless he keeps going himself."

"So it's a Glee rehearsal. And unless it works, that's all it is." Will looked intently at Figgins. "Finn's an adult and he's not a student, so he'd basically have to complain himself for this to be a problem."

"And he won't," Puck insisted. "He'd have to go after me too, and right now he'd do almost anything for a chance at remembering."

Figgins looked from Puck to Will, taking in Emma's hopeful and persistent look as well. He cleared his throat. "I wish your students all the best at their Glee rehearsal, Will," he said in a clearly enunciated monotone, staring intently back at Will. "You are lucky to have such dedicated former members to help you."

Will nodded, smiling. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it. _Please._"

* * *

Saturday morning at ten there were a mixed group of Glee people in the McKinley auditorium: a few new members, the core of continuing members, some of the guys from the jazz band who'd helped them out before plus instrumentalists for the songs, Brad at the keyboard, the lighting tech, and Will and Emma waiting quietly backstage. Sam was there, acting like just another Glee Club member; he and Mike had been there for a while with the current members, getting them used to the routines as a unit and teaching them a few new moves that Mike wanted to pass onto the club for future use.

Finn arrived with Puck and was welcomed back by the others. Mike thanked him for joining in, pushing the fiction that this was a Glee rehearsal, and once Finn and Puck joined the rest of them, Blaine and Artie stepped out of the group while Mike talked the rest through the backing choreography one last time.

Mike showed everyone their places to start "Control", getting ready for the run-through, and gave Finn a few extra pointers as he reached Finn's initial spot at center back.

"And if you get lost just look at Puck," Mike encouraged him. "You mirror him, once you get past the opening position."

"Okay," Finn raised his eyebrows, then grinned. "I just hope I stay clear of the others, wouldn't want anyone..." _to get hurt..._ his grin faded rapidly and he trailed off in thought, the repeated idea coming back to him, and more of it this time, that it had been dance rehearsal like now... He stared off into space, grimacing at the sudden rush of guilt, a thought coming into his head: _'The one person I didn't want to hurt any more.'_

Finn blinked, the thought fading, and he glanced briefly at Mike, who had frozen next to him so as not to distract him. "I need to talk to Blaine," he muttered. "Blaine?" he called out, moving towards him, still distracted.

"Yes, what is it, Finn?" Blaine moved to meet him.

"When I hurt someone. It was dancing, right? And it was Rachel." He exhaled as his brain seemed to shift, making sense of the remembered thought. And that feeling of guilt, he knew that feeling, he'd felt the same way after that disastrous dinner at Breadstix and other times too. The 'I've hurt Rachel again' feeling he'd grown to hate so much. "Rachel, when we were split up."

"Uh, I wasn't there..." Blaine demurred, wanting to get on with the number as planned.

"Come on, you know about it, just tell me," Finn insisted. He had to know, make conscious sense of it before it slipped away.

Blaine saw the conviction in Finn's eyes, and nodded reluctantly. "Yes, it was Rachel, at dance rehearsal. And yes, it was while you were broken up. Do you see it?"

"No, just a thought, like I remembered what I thought at the time. 'The one person I didn't want to hurt any more.' It just had to be her, and then. I felt so guilty." He stood there for a while, letting it sink in, wishing that he could see or feel it as well, more than just words and a scrap of emotion. Though that was more than he'd had before. "Thanks," he told Blaine. "No wonder she was so sure that everything was fine later." He exhaled, letting the suddenness of the thought dissipate as he stood there for a few moments. He still didn't know how he'd hurt her, but she'd been so insistent that it was an accident, and everything had healed... she'd been more concerned about him feeling bad about having done it.

Finally he nodded, and he became aware that everyone was waiting for him.

"You okay, Finn?" Puck called out to him, seeing him straighten up. He'd been worried when Finn had started acting weird, but everything seemed to have settled down now.

"Ah, yep," Finn called back. "Better get back into it," he said, mostly to himself, getting his focus back onto what they were going to do. He went back to his spot, and everyone else went back to their places. He talked to Mike again briefly, then they all got ready to start "Control". The lights dimmed, a spotlight picked out Tina, and she started.

Once Blaine moved forward to sing, the rest of them started to dance, Finn among them, doing the steps like he'd walked through. It was easier as part of the group, staying in step with the others in front of him and beside him. It felt good.

Doing the movements, singing backup to Blaine and Artie – Finn felt alive, performing, everything flowing. Dimly he recognized that this was because he'd done it before, that's why it felt right. He started to have it become automatic... but he pushed that back, grabbing onto the memory of the movements without losing himself, staying consciously aware while still becoming one with the performance. _I can do this_, he told himself. He felt rather than saw Puck at the far end, his counterpart in the formation.

Then the last notes of "Control" finished, and they turned their backs to the empty auditorium. The lights went dark. The others held their breath as the intro to "Man in the Mirror" started, the spotlight came on... and Finn stepped into it and started to sing. (*)

_I'm gonna make a change, for once in my life_

The others exchanged excited grins. Finn was surprised at what he was doing, but kept singing, living in the performance. _This is right_, he thought, feeling the buzz, the adrenalin of performing lifting him. Artie rolled forward to join him.

_It's gonna feel real good, gonna make a difference_

And Finn continued alone:  
_Gonna make it right_

He felt Puck step forward to his left, and he listened to his friend, feeling the music run through him and the rhythm carry him along. Then Blaine, then Sam... all five guys coming together, as one with the song just as they'd been then. He _knew_ this, he'd done it before, and he _**remembered**_ doing it before. Finn kept singing and moving, feeling it all flow, the song, his part, the movements, feeling it and remembering it. And feeling the same power and strength of leading the number, too, the energy of the others surrounding him and supporting him as the piece built.

_I'm starting with the man in the mirror, oh yeah_

It had felt triumphant the first time, performing this, but that had nothing on how he felt doing it now, soaring, his exhilaration at remembering added to the thrill and power inherent in the memory itself.

_Take a look at yourself and then make the change  
You gotta get it right while you got the time  
'Cause when you close your heart  
Then you close your mind_

They ended with cheers, as they had in their performance, but for an entirely different reason. "You guys!" Finn shouted, hugging them, overcome with elation as he felt the sureness of having done it before, remembering how it had gone, even seeing the white suits they had worn. "Holy shit, I don't believe it!" Blaine shook his hand, and even that brought the memory back, of their pact to pull together for the sake of the club and that competition. He didn't understand why, since he and Blaine got along fine, but he remembered that anyway. And he knew, beyond any doubt, that this memory was real.

Finn bent down, breathing hard, the memory still there. Again there. He stayed like that for a moment, just taking it all in, then straightened and turned to the others, grinning widely and shaking his head in disbelief at how they'd tricked him into remembering.

"That was quite the con job, Puck. Just a run-through, huh? Good thing I'm gullible." Finn laughed and slapped his best friend on the shoulder, then hugged him spontaneously. "God, thanks, Puck. All of you. Seriously. I – I was giving up," he admitted. "I thought I'd never remember and I was just going to have to rebuild my life without any of it. Just, thank you."

Puck pulled back and grinned at Finn. "And now?"

"Now? It's not much, but I remember when we did this before, it's _there_, I can see it and feel it, it's solid. And to remember anything... I feel like a giant." Finn threw his head back and crowed.

Sam came up and slapped him on the back. "You kind of are a giant, dude."

Finn laughed again. "A real one, Sam. Ten feet tall."

"You know me?" Sam asked, smiling.

"Yeah, sure I do..." Finn trailed off thoughtfully, then grinned again. "Yeah, I know you! A bit, anyway." Suddenly the man in his own mirror wasn't such a stranger any more. He looked out into the empty auditorium, seeing what he'd seen then, the seats filled, his eyes drawn to a short dark-haired girl in a black-and-white dress. "Rachel..." he mumbled. "She was there. She looked really happy." _Her eyes and smile, her whole face shining at me._ "I remember her here, I can see her," he breathed, tears starting to come to his eyes.

"Yeah, she was there," Blaine said.

"I mean I remember this number, and everything around it, even Sam coming back for it," Finn said. "She was watching, smiling, she was so proud of me." _And I was proud too, proud that we'd done it without her and that I could do it for her. I remember. God, I remember._

"That's right," Blaine replied.

"Do you remember why she wasn't singing?" Artie asked.

"She..." Finn shook his head and closed his eyes, trying to let the thoughts simply come, one leading to another.

"Don't worry about it," Puck said, but Finn waved him off.

"She was suspended," Finn said, looking up again. "Figgins wouldn't let her sing at Sectionals. Something she'd tried to do... for Kurt?"

"Yep," Artie nodded with a grin.

"The rest's a blank," Finn said, lost in wonder. "But I got this, I got _this_, thanks to you guys!" He yelled wordlessly again, pushing the sound to the ceiling as he leaned back and spread his arms wide in exultation. The others stared at him.

He laughed at their reaction and shook his head. "I didn't know if I was ever going to be able to remember any of it, not consciously. Thank you, just _thank you_." He exhaled. "Let's celebrate, lunch is on me. Breadstix." _I remember, I actually remember something. And Rachel. And this worked, so..._ He hardly dared hope that he could get more the same way, but it was a start. He could remember. He did.

* * *

Backstage, Will and Emma had tears in their eyes, so happy at hearing the success of the number and Finn's obvious joy at remembering it.

"Do you want to go out there?" Emma asked Will.

"No," he replied. He gave her a quiet smile as he shook his head. "This is their triumph, they did this. I'm so proud of all of them."

* * *

_* "Man in the Mirror", as performed by Michael Jackson, written by Siedah Garrett and Glen Ballard._


	27. memory a flickering light

_A/N: these next few chapters may take a little longer to post, but I'm working on them.  
I am completely and thoroughly blown away by how much so many of you are getting into my story! Much thanks for all the feedback!  
_

* * *

The newer members dispersed on their own, leaving the old core of the group: Finn, Puck, Blaine, Artie, Tina, Mike, and Sam. They reassembled at Breadstix for lunch, Finn having what felt like a permanent grin plastered on his face. The restaurant was largely empty, so their orders were taken quickly and their drinks brought.

"So why'd you pick that number?" Finn asked the others as they waited for their food. "It was a great choice, I felt like a king. Leading it and pulling it off, really alive, just the thing to get me into it and get my confidence going again. Did you know that?"

"Uh..." The others exchanged looks. Finally Puck spoke. "Actually it's the only one we could come up with that we thought had a shot, dude," he admitted. "We figured a performance was best, as much like we'd done it before as we could, since just repeating songs didn't work. This was the only one we thought we could trick you into."

"And had the people for," Artie chimed in.

"Oh." Finn couldn't help but be disappointed – he'd hoped there would be more that could also be brought back the same way.

"But now we know it works, there were others that Rachel was in, there's a chance you could bring that stuff back if you sang with her," Tina said.

"Hold on." Finn looked at Puck, his grin disappearing. "What did you mean, 'just repeating songs didn't work'?" Puck didn't respond, and when Finn looked around at the rest of the table, nobody met his eyes. Except Sam, who shrugged at him to show that he had no idea. "Karaoke," Finn said finally. "Some of those songs I've been singing, I've sung them before."

"Yes," Artie admitted. "And you didn't seem to notice, not to actually remember it."

"Like 'Don't Stop'." Of course he would have sung that before, they'd said the club had done a lot of Journey at one point, and he would never have passed that one up.

"Yes," Tina said. "How – how did you feel when you sang it?"

"I don't know, just..." Finn tried to think back. He hadn't noticed anything special, beyond the fact that the song was a favorite of his. He shrugged. "I really enjoyed it," he offered lamely. "But I would. A little embarrassed at screwing it up, I guess." The others exchanged glances at this, and he groaned. "You know why I screwed it up, don't you," he said. _Back to doing stuff and not knowing why._

"Yes, you –" Tina started to talk, but Finn interrupted her.

"No, please don't tell me," he said quickly, waving her off. "Sorry, I don't mean to be rude, just – the unexpected stuff helps, that way things can sort of sneak up on me like what happened today. It's like..." he tried to make sense of his thoughts on this. "I have to not be thinking about it, and then maybe the thoughts can flow right. Like today, that was perfect, I got into the performance and just went with it. But if I get told, then if I think I remember it later, maybe I remember or maybe I don't, I've just decided in my head what it should have been like. Or I remember being told instead of the actual thing."

"And if you don't get told?" Sam asked.

"Then if I remember something it should be a real memory because there's not much else it can be. And if something happens that might trigger it, it can only trigger the real thing, not someone telling me about it instead." Finn sighed. "Like when I was still in hospital, I heard this song on my iPod, it was me singing with Rachel. And I freaked out, I'd only just met her and it was really weird listening to myself." He paused, the others all still looking at him. "And then later, when I really wanted to remember, I listened to it again, and all I could remember was when I'd freaked out before. Maybe it wouldn't have worked anyway, but I don't think it can work the right way now."

"The song is linked to more than one memory and you can get the wrong one," Mike stated, understanding.

"Yeah, that's what my shrink says. So I don't want to set up any more stuff like that." But Finn smiled, still feeling happier than he'd felt in a long time. "Especially now that I know I _can_ remember."

"So does that mean these things are kinda one use only, if it doesn't trigger a memory the first time then it might never work?" Sam asked, concerned.

"Uh, yeah," Finn replied. "That's the danger, anyway."

"Wow." Sam exhaled. "You're pretty much screwed." He rolled his eyes at himself. "Okay, that's a bad way to put it, but you get what I mean. That's a really small target to hit."

"Yep," Finn agreed. He looked over at Puck and Blaine. "What would you have done if I hadn't kept going, anyway?" he asked.

"Played through the intro and stopped," Blaine said. "We didn't want to let you know we were up to something."

"Good plan," Finn nodded. "Thanks."

"Of course now you know we're up to something," Blaine went on. "It's not a trick we can really pull twice."

"Now he knows that _sometimes_ we're up to something," Artie corrected. "We could hide other songs in a larger set." He turned to Finn. "Like have you sing random eighties music for a while, you'd never know what was supposed to be meaningful and you couldn't be alert forever." He gave Finn a pleased smile.

Finn shook his head, a little amused but defensive at the 'random eighties music' crack. So he liked the stuff he'd grown up with that his mom listened to, so what. It was good music. "You're enjoying the idea of tricking me way too much," he chuckled.

"It's for your own good, Finn," Artie responded, still smug.

"He's not a puppet, Artie," Tina chided. "It shouldn't be up to us to pick what he remembers or just get him to do things."

"Thank you," Finn smiled at her gratefully. "Though at this point I'll take whatever I can get, at least as starting points."

"You're remembering more than just the performance, aren't you?" Mike asked.

"Yeah, it's kind of like a beachhead," Finn explained. "That's what it feels like, anyway, and now I get what I've been told about how things connect. Memories."

"Like what?" Sam asked.

"Like I remember the performance, of course, and being glad that you came back for it, and then from there I remember you coming back..." Finn quieted, closing his eyes, letting the thoughts come. "We went to get you, right? Rachel and me, we drove down to Kentucky to find you." _And talked about music_ _– Rachel had ideas about what suited the others' voices._

"Yep."

"And..." Finn winced as he remembered when he'd first seen Sam again, back then. "Okay, I could have done without remembering _that_." He opened his eyes again and looked at Sam meaningfully.

Sam chuckled ruefully, blushing a little. "Yeah, sorry. But you actually got that, huh? Like you can see it and hear it?"

"'White Chocolate'? Yeah. At the time I thought I'd never be able to forget it, guess I was wrong. Don't know why the name, though, maybe I never did."

"Uh, no, I wouldn't have told you." Sam looked very embarrassed.

"Are you finding it easier to remember?" Blaine asked.

Finn frowned, puzzled. "Well now I have a strong memory and before I didn't, so _yeah_."

Blaine shook his head. "Not what I meant. I meant what you suddenly wanted to talk about _before,_ about when you hurt someone. The previous time you sort of remembered that you didn't get as much."

"Huh." Finn tried to remember what he'd felt then, why the stray thought might have come back, but he had no idea. "I don't know," he said finally. "Maybe it was more like the situation, maybe it was going through it again, or maybe it really does get easier." He shrugged. "I'll take what I can get. I still don't know how I hurt her, though, and I –"

"Don't want to think about it too much," Puck interrupted, slowly and loudly chanting Finn's familiar phrase.

Finn grimaced. "_Yes._"

"Well if you don't want to think, maybe we should get you drunk," Puck offered. "You're turning nineteen in a few weeks, the two of us could head up to Windsor and even do it legally."

"Yes, kill off some brain cells, now _that's_ a good idea," Blaine said sarcastically. Puck glared at him.

"Hey, it's my brain, guys," Finn interjected. "Great plan today and I can't thank you enough for coming up with it and pulling it off, but now that I know about it I hope I get a say." Blaine and Puck both looked apologetic. "Anyway, don't people usually drink to _forget_?" The others laughed at that.

"So what do you think you should do next, Finn?" Mike asked.

"I don't know," Finn said slowly, considering it. "Maybe I should just push on with it, try to expand out from the memory, or try something else and see what else we can bring back... but maybe not right now." He sighed. "I feel like letting it sink in for a little while, just enjoy the moment and reinforce what I've got. I've felt so _trapped_, like there was a huge weight pushing down on me and I couldn't get out from under. It's finally lifting, a bit, and I just want to breathe and be happy about it." He snorted. "Either that or take the first bus to New York."

"Why don't you?" Tina asked.

"And get Rachel's hopes up when I still don't have much to offer yet?" Finn shook his head. "No, it doesn't feel right to keep doing that to her, to bother her like that." He exhaled. "I'm going to keep working on it," he said determinedly. "And I'll talk to the shrink on Wednesday, this is just the sort of breakthrough he's been hoping for so there's probably other stuff I can do now." He nodded to himself, then flashed a grin. "But right now I want to enjoy this feeling. And relax, finally. I've been so frustrated."

"You're not worried she might find someone else?" Artie asked. Blaine tried to wave him quiet.

"_Already?_" Finn considered it for a moment. All he could see was the way she had looked at him, how she'd talked of him with such devotion, how he could tell how much she loved him, how he was now starting to get a little sense of how he could actually have inspired feelings like that. That memory, of performing, he felt like he was that guy she'd talked about. "No," he answered finally. "Not if she really feels the way she thinks she does. And if not..." he shrugged. He had to concentrate on bringing himself back, that's what would fix things. She believed in him, and he had to believe in her too.

"Hey, we're celebrating, right?" Sam broke the silence that had descended, putting some cheerfulness back in. He raised his glass. "Here's to the power of Glee."

"To Glee," Finn replied, raising his glass too, clinking it against the others' glasses around the table. "So how are the rest of you doing, anyway?" Their food came a moment later, and they talked for a while about everyone else, finding out what each other had been up to since they'd been together last.

* * *

"How did your Glee thing go?" Carole asked Finn when he came home that afternoon.

Finn suppressed his grin. "Funny you should ask that," he replied. He looked at his mom speculatively. "Did you know what they were planning?"

"They were planning something?" Carole was puzzled.

"Yeah, we did two songs but they only told me about the first one."

"Really?" She looked at him carefully. "How did they go?"

Finn let his grin loose again. "It went great, Mom," he said. "They were ones we did at Sectionals last year."

Carole stared, her breath catching in her throat. "You remember? Doing them before?"

He nodded, grinning even more widely. "I remember. Just that, and some other stuff around it, but – I remember it."

"Oh _honey_." She closed to him for a hug. "That's so wonderful, Finn."

"Yes it is." He sighed and hugged her tightly, happiness bubbling up once more. He could do this, he could be himself again. It might be slow, and in pieces, but he felt he was finally on his way.

As he went to sleep that night he thought of Rachel, not from the picture or his fantasy, but from that memory, seeing her in the audience beaming up at him in adoration, like he was her hero... and that amazing feeling that right then on stage he really had been.

And he'd be her hero again, no matter how much he had to fight himself to do it.

* * *

The following morning Finn was much less interested in waiting to talk to his shrink before trying to remember other things. He had a memory now and he wanted more. _This situation even has me hating a holiday,_ he thought wryly; his regular appointments were on Mondays, but he'd had to settle for Wednesday this week because of Columbus Day.

Finn lay in bed, still not fully alert, and he let his mind idly explore the memory he'd gotten back yesterday. _Try expanding it,_ he told himself sleepily. _Rachel. I can see Rachel, how she's looking at me. Is there anything else connected to that?_ But nothing else seemed to come, maybe because he was trying too hard, maybe because there wasn't really any direction for it to go or questions to ask himself about that memory.

Finn groaned, turned over and went through the performance in his head one more time, feeling that elation again, even through his morning sluggishness. He yawned and took a few deep breaths, relaxing himself further. _Okay, try something else. Blaine._ He remembered shaking Blaine's hand at the end, happy that they'd put their differences aside, but he didn't know what those differences were. Why would he and Blaine have had problems? His relationship with Kurt? But they seemed really solid, happy, Blaine had switched to McKinley because of Kurt and liked it enough to stay even now, replacing Finn as captain and male lead of Glee.

Replacing him. He didn't like feeling like he could be replaced, especially as Blaine was so talented, he couldn't compete with him really, and this was his club, or it had been. _And yeah things are a mess going into Sectionals but I can figure it out, that's my job and I'm taking care of it. I'm co-captain here, I'm the leader, I brought Sam back, morale is better and I'm putting a plan together, and Blaine should respect that... __**huh.**_

And it had worked, once they'd pulled together, and he'd felt that awesome rush of performing and leading, and winning, getting to be a star for his star...

She'd come towards him in the hall afterwards, beaming at him, congratulating and praising him, and he'd felt even more a hero than he had when they'd finished the number and when they'd won. Rachel stepping into his arms, looking up at him with such adoration.

_"You were so wonderful, in that last number," Rachel says, smiling. "Everyone was, but especially you." Her hands stroke up my jacket lapels, one reaching up to touch my face, her eyes so wide I could just dive in, her voice so lovely, silenced earlier but saved just for me... "I wouldn't have been able to tear my eyes from you even if I'd wanted to." And I feel like I can do anything, if she just keeps looking at me like that, and touching me, that extra thrill as her fingers stroke my jaw, her lips rising to mine, her kiss so serious, deep, the feel of her mouth sending shockwaves through me..._

Wow. He'd thought the kisses they'd had when reconnecting had been amazing, but they had nothing on that one. More special, more intimate and powerful a connection. That had to be a memory, right? He hadn't even been trying to think of her, not right then, his thoughts had just naturally gone that way. Leading him back to her.


	28. break the surface tension

Belhaven was clearly thrilled when Finn told him about his regained memory, and that he'd even been able to expand it a bit. The doctor's smile even showed a few teeth, a much happier reaction than Finn had previously seen from the mostly stoic psychiatrist.

He asked Finn a lot about the experience, nodding as Finn haltingly recounted what it had felt like.

"Your friends did very well," the doctor said. "It's as if you slid into your old memory by reliving the start of it, and yes it probably did help that the incident was so intense for you, performing. How did they get the idea, did they tell you?"

Puck had admitted to Finn what he had noticed the night they'd sung "Beth", so Finn told Belhaven about that now. "He said the things I talked about, afterwards, were a lot like what had been going on at the time," he explained. "About things now, but the same basic ideas and stuff. And I had no idea, about that or about singing it the same way, the thoughts just came."

"Hmm."

Finn mentally counted another 'hmm'. Even with the new development, Belhaven still talked the same. Any time now he'd probably hear him say that it was 'promising'.

"Well this development is certainly highly promising, Finn, aside from having the memory itself."

_Bingo. Though 'highly promising' is a step up, best I've had before was 'very promising'. _"Is there anything more I can do now?" Finn asked. "Maybe try that sort of thing again, even though I'd know about it?"

The doctor considered it. "It depends on how deeply you get into performing," he said. "And the longer the pattern is matched, the easier it may be for you to stay in it instead of slipping out of it. But once you have multiple patterns that start the same way, it can become more difficult to get the older one later."

"So I have to get it right the first time," Finn commented morosely.

"Not 'have to' necessarily. But it would help. The performance may still be the strongest memory, because it's the performance. It's special."

"Hmm." _Great, now I'm doing it._ "Repeating and getting into patterns, huh." _Like drumming. I can get that._

"Yes. But the more a pattern is ingrained, the less your mind is really on it, usually."

_Just like drumming, the more I play something the less I have to think about it, _Finn thought. _And like how it's getting harder to pay attention to this guy because he's always using the same words. School was like that too, after a while it all seemed the same and it was really hard to pay attention to it. But that was boring. Drumming's not and performing isn't either._

_Hmm._

* * *

As the days went by, little by little the memory of last year's Sectionals seemed to fill in further for Finn, every time he thought about it there seemed to be a tiny bit more. He still didn't know why there was a separate girls' group competing against them, but he could see them dancing along in the audience and he felt how important it had been to beat them. But the process was very slow, and Finn felt that at this rate he'd understand that part of his life about when he died of old age.

He'd tried to expand out the sudden thought flash he'd had as well, about when he'd hurt Rachel physically by accident, but he hadn't gotten much, just sometimes getting that feeling of guilt again, and worse, that something was about to go horribly permanently wrong. _'She can't do that, no, it's wrong and it's all my fault'_ joined the other thought, and he felt sick, twisted inside, but he didn't know why. It was the past though, Rachel had assured him that there was no permanent damage as a result of the accident, whatever it had been. So she hadn't done it, whatever it was, and right now Kurt was making sure she was okay. Nothing more was coming, and that confusing twisted guilt really hurt, so he gave up trying to think about it.

In late October Finn turned nineteen. He wondered if he really felt nineteen, given that he'd forgotten almost three years, but the answer surprisingly was 'yes'. He had been taking on more responsibility in the tire shop, he was doing well in his two college courses, and now that he had made some progress on his memory he was feeling less dislocated from his life. He knew that there was still a lot more to go, but he'd made a start, and he pushed forward with the potential future plans that he'd already been looking into.

He had a small celebration with his mother, just the two of them at home, before going off to the pub to party with the Glee crowd. It wasn't their usual karaoke night, but Puck had made the arrangements, and more of them had been able to come than usual. His mom, headed off to the hospital for an overnight shift, was happy that there wouldn't be alcohol; Puck got along too well with the pub manager to risk anything that might either close it down or kick them out. Even Puck was acting nineteen.

There was a great turnout, their usual five plus Brittany, and others from Glee: Rory, Sugar, and some of the new people were there at first. Even Mr. Schue and Ms. Pillsbury made a brief appearance to wish Finn well. Singing "Happy Birthday" for some groups could be uncomfortable (for both singers and listeners), but this was going to be just the start of an evening of singing and most of them had decent voices. However, as they were about to start singing to him, Blaine held up his hand for quiet.

"Hold on, there's someone else who wants to wish Finn a Happy Birthday," Blaine said from where he sat across from Finn, bringing his iPad out. "Good thing this place has wifi." He tapped it a few times, and in a moment another voice was heard.

"Happy Birthday, brother mine." Kurt's clear voice came through the speaker. "We miss you here. And since you can't remember your last three birthdays, this one is unmissable. This is for you."

But the voice that then started singing "Happy Birthday" wasn't Kurt's – Finn swallowed reflexively at hearing Rachel sing to him. He'd missed her voice. Some of the others had joined in, but he waved them off, staring at the back of Blaine's iPad. Kurt also stopped, probably when he noticed the others were letting Rachel sing alone.

Cheers came from the table as she finished. "I didn't realize that was going to be a solo," Rachel said, sounding self-conscious.

Blaine exchanged a look with Finn, seeing Finn shake his head. "Ah, you can't expect us to pass up a chance to hear you sing again, especially when you're NYADA's new rising star," Blaine quickly improvised. "And was that you being confused at getting a solo? Doesn't sound like the Rachel Berry I know."

Rachel laughed at Blaine's teasing. "It was just unexpected." She paused. "Happy Birthday, Finn. I know what you said, that regular communication would just drive both of us crazy, and you're probably right, but it's your birthday so it's special, and this is just me talking anyway so you don't have to worry about what I might think. And hello to everyone else, remember that we have an apartment with a pull-out couch so it's like a little New Directions beachhead in New York. We may not have much time for you but we certainly have some space."

Listening to her, Finn found his hands move, grabbing the iPad from Blaine in one swift motion. It wasn't automatic but his impulse had very rapidly been converted to action, since hearing her made him want to see her all the more. Blaine's hand closed over air, and Finn found himself looking directly at Rachel.

"Oh," she said, surprised and suddenly nervous, but giving him a shy happy smile.

"One-time thing," Finn said, gazing at her, drinking in the sight of her. _Beautiful. She looks tired though. _He didn't know what to say, so he just looked. He supposed he could thank her for the present she'd sent, some great drum accessories she must have found in New York, but he wasn't sure how to put it without either overselling or underselling his thanks.

She nodded, looking back at him. "It's probably just as well, that it's just this time, I'd only get obsessed," she said after a few moments. She gave a small wince as she was apparently nudged from offscreen. "Even more obsessed." She rolled her eyes a little, still smiling. "Everyone's a critic."

Finn smiled back. "Get used to it, rising star." He paused. "I miss you, Rachel." His eyes were intent on the screen, but he vaguely noticed that everyone around him had moved off.

She smiled. "I miss you, Finn. See you at Christmas."

"Take care."

"You too."

Finn passed the tablet back to Blaine, who chatted to Kurt again briefly before their food arrived.

* * *

"So, Finn, birthday boy!" Blaine called out as he jumped onto the stage to open up the singing. Artie had rolled to the karaoke machine, so they had something planned. Blaine grinned as everyone focused on him. "This party needs some music, and in your honor we decided we should go a little... _eighties_." Finn rolled his eyes as the others laughed. "Now this stuff isn't meaningful, as far as we know, or at least as far as we admit, but you do need to listen to this first one because it is telling you something important. Like the doc says, and like we all say, Frankie says..." He grinned and started singing: (*)

_Relax  
don't do it  
When you want to go to it  
Relax don't do it  
When you want to come ..._

Pretty soon everyone was taking turns, picking songs and singing, including the teachers, though they left early. Only one song got vetoed: Paul Hardcastle's "Nineteen", which Brittany hadn't realized was not a sequel to Alice Cooper's "Eighteen".

Finn was having a great time, singing, listening to his friends sing, definitely getting relaxed. Doing this felt so comfortable for him, hard to believe he'd only been back into singing for less than six weeks. It had also been so great to see and hear Rachel, earlier, and he was happy that they seemed to have managed to do that (just once) without putting either of them on edge. He groaned, though, when he heard the intro to the latest music selection being sung by a group of the guys – the song from the one movie that had been conspicuously absent from his mom's recent teen movie nostalgia-fest, presumably because she was being more considerate of potential amnesia references than these guys were: (**)

_Won't you come see about me?  
I'll be alone, dancing you know it baby  
Tell me your troubles and doubts  
Giving me everything inside and out, and out  
Love's strange so real in the dark  
Think of the tender things that we were working on_

_Slow change may pull us apart  
When the light gets into your heart, baby_

These lyrics were hitting a little too close to home, though it certainly hadn't been a slow change. But as they moved to the chorus, Finn found he just had to laugh, they were having way too much fun with it.

_Don't you forget about me  
Don't don't don't don't  
Don't you forget about me_

_Will you stand above me?  
Look my way and never love me  
Rain keeps falling, rain keeps falling  
Down, down, down_

_Would you recognize me?  
Call my name or walk on by  
Rain keeps falling, rain keeps falling  
Down, down, down_

And that was hitting far close to home again, reminding Finn of how Rachel must have felt, in those early days when he'd woken up with no memory of her and pulled away. But this was obviously intended as a joke, and it was easier to lighten up about the whole agonizing situation now that he finally seemed to be getting somewhere. He caught Puck's eye and shook his head, only to get a smirk back from his old friend as the group continued to sing. _Well if that's how they want to play it..._ Finn grabbed the binder and looked up the code for an old Duran Duran song. When they were done he took to the stage and grabbed the mike.

"Yes, thank you so much for that, uh, _threat_," Finn said with a frown. "Not my choice, you know." There was general laughter. "I have a bit of an answer for you, or really a request, if there's anything more you guys have cooked up. He punched in the code, tapped along with the intro and started to sing: (***)

_I made a break I run out yesterday tried to find my mountain hideaway  
Maybe next year maybe no go  
I know you're watching me every minute of the day yeah_

Finn looked meaningfully at the others as he kept on.

_I've seen the signs and the looks and the pictures that give your game away yeah  
There's a dream that strings the road a broken glass for us to hold  
And I cut so far before I had to say_

He started pointing to his friends, the conspirators who'd helped him so much, with a broad grin on his face as he went into the chorus.

_Please please tell me now is there something I should know..._

* * *

The party was winding down, with just the few long-timers left: Finn, Puck, Artie, Tina, and Brittany. Finn was on stage, singing Hall and Oates, "You Make My Dreams Come True", which he supposed was wishful thinking on his part since he still had some awesome dreams about Rachel (and he always hoped that some of it might not be just a dream). The others watched.

"Did someone suggest this one?" Artie asked the others.

Puck shrugged. "Nope. And he doesn't seem to notice it's a repeat. It was a mash-up though, might be too different."

"The problem is that he picked this song the first time too," Artie said. "It's stuff he already knew and liked."

"Then you need something he didn't know before," Brittany said in a matter-of-fact tone.

Artie paused, her words sinking in, and he started to grin. "Brittany, you're a genius," he said. Brittany smiled and nodded. "We need something _original_," he stated. Puck returned his grin, catching on. Tina was just returning from the washroom, so Brittany hurried over to intercept her.

"Tina, can you be Santana for us?" Brittany asked, pulling her over to the table.

"Uh..." Tina raised her eyebrows, shocked and confused. "You want me to insult Finn? Or – uh, _no_, I miss Mike but I'm not desperate, and Santana would kill me."

"Not like that," Artie said with a chuckle. "Singing. We need you to do her part in one of our numbers."

"Um, okay," Tina said with a relieved smile. "What do you want to do?"

They conferred quickly, and got ready to take over the stage.

As Finn finished, Puck took the mike from him and put it down. "Stick around, you should be able to pick this one up, it's not hard," Puck said as the rest of the group joined them.

Finn realized this was probably some other re-sing attempt, but he figured why not, he'd just go with it and see what happened. He was surprised, though, when the machine was turned off and they started to clap out a rhythm, but he joined in quickly.

Tina started singing, a bit lower than her usual range: (****)

_hey-hey-hey you and me keep on dancing in the dark  
it's been tearing me apart, never knowing what we are  
hey-hey-hey you and me keep on trying to play it cool  
now it's time to make a move and that's what I'm gonna do_

Artie and Brittany went forward to do an alternating duet part:

_lay it all down  
got something to say  
lay it all down  
throw your doubt away  
do or die now  
step onto the plate  
blow the door wide open like up up and away_

and the others, Tina and Puck, joined in for the chorus.

_let's light up the world tonight  
you gotta give up the bark and bite  
I know that we got the love alright  
come on and li-li-light it up, light it up tonight_

The chorus repeated, and Finn joined in, feeling that he was remembering this, but not aware from where or getting a larger memory around it.

_let's light up the world tonight  
you gotta give up the bark and bite  
I know that we got the love alright  
come on and li-li-light it up, light it up tonight_

The others stopped, but Finn kept going, pushing more energy into it.

_hey-hey-hey you and me turn it up ten thousand watts  
tell me why we've gotta stop, I just want to let it rock_

Artie took over:  
_hey-hey-hey you and me keep on staring at the road  
like we don't know where to go, step back, let me take control_

But as Artie sang, Finn staggered, barely staying on his feet as the memories flooded him, overlapping pain and frustration and exaltation, too confusing for him to take in at once.

* * *

_* "Relax", as performed by Frankie Goes to Hollywood, written by Peter Gill, Holly Johnson, Brian Nash and Mark O'Toole.  
** "Don't You (Forget About Me)", as performed by Simple Minds, written by Keith Forsey and Steve Schiff.  
*** "Is There Something I Should Know?", as performed and written by Duran Duran.  
**** "Light Up the World", as performed by the Glee cast, written by Adam Anders, Peer Åström, Max Martin, Shellback and Savan Kotecha._


	29. images conflicting into data overload

Triumph.

Frustration.

Need, agony of longing.

Conflicting fragments swamped Finn's mind: emotions, thoughts, images. All around that scrap of song.

Conflicting, too, were his reactions to this. He knew he had to hold onto as much of it as he could, consciously grasping at the shards, trying to override his reflex to push it all away to protect himself from the overwhelming confusion.

Dimly he sensed he was still on his feet, slowly walking off stage to a chair, Puck at his elbow. He sat down roughly and closed his eyes, trying to pull all of it back, sift through it and make some sense of it.

Frustration. Words scrawled on a page, some scratched out, some marks and words scattered around. _How can I make her listen?_

_YES!_ Singing with more power, different energy, exploding with a million watts of joy and triumph.

Longing. Writing, thinking, singing, those words over and over, pushing out his sheer want. _Tell me why we've gotta stop... _Making his argument, a plea to be heard and to be answered.

_Please, Rachel. I know you feel it too, we belong together, we're so good together. That's the power of you and me, why are you pulling away from that?_

_She wouldn't give up before, why now? Is it **him**?_

Some self-blame, too, amid the want: _I took too long to figure it out, I hurt her too much. She can't trust me. But I'm trying, I know she can feel it too, she always knows me._

_Just tell me why._

Other than Puck, the others around him had left quietly, Brittany giving him a light one-armed hug. Finn opened his eyes, his expression set. He slowly raised his head, sensing his friend sitting at the table with him. The pieces stayed with him, no longer threatening to slip away, but it was just so hard to make sense of any of it.

"Hey," Finn said quietly, still staring off, just wanting to let Puck know he was managing, sort of.

"Sorry," Puck responded. "We had no idea it could do this."

"No way you could," Finn breathed, his mind still holding onto those shards of sight and sound and emotion. What was it that brought up all this? "There's a lot, but it's all bits and it doesn't fit together, and I don't even know the song... I mean I did, when we were singing... _argh._" Finn groaned in frustration. "I do and I don't, and there's just so much in my head suddenly, all mixed together, a room and a stage and words on paper, and frustration and mindblowing happiness and want and pushing it and _everything_."

"I don't know what I should tell you, dude," Puck said after a moment. "I don't want to screw it up by telling you what to think."

Finn frowned, trying to get a single thing that might help him make sense of everything that was scrambling together in his mind. He exhaled. "Where's the song from?" he asked finally.

"Nationals. New York."

"Other than that? I've never heard it before, who's it even by?"

"Us," Puck stated. Finn turned to stare at him, dumbfounded. "We wrote our own songs that year. That's why we went for it, we knew you couldn't remember it from anywhere else."

_Shit._ The words on the page, floating before his eyes, scrawled in his own writing. Finn swallowed, trying to clear his throat, still feeling a residue of the emotional pain that had been brought back. "Those words I sang – _I_ wrote them?"

"Yep."

Finn sat there staring at the table, letting that sink in. Eventually Puck spoke again.

"You in there?"

"Uh, yeah, just trying to make sense of it all. Thanks, I... thanks." Finn blinked, coming back to reality a bit more. "I should get home. Thanks."

"Thank me after I drive you home," Puck said flatly. He held his hand out, palm up. "Keys. I'll come back for mine, it's not far."

Finn frowned, but handed over the keys to Burt's truck.

As Puck drove him home, Finn turned the thoughts over in his head again, trying to get the disparate pieces to fit. They were all just so different. One impression stuck to all of them, though: Rachel._ RachelRachelRachel Rachel RachelRachelRachel. 'You and me' – Rachel and me. _Wanting Rachel, needing Rachel, frustrated about Rachel. But triumph, too – having Rachel? What had been going on that included all this?

"Puck?" Finn broke the silence as they got close to his place. "When was Nationals in New York?"

"May last year," Puck answered. "About a week before the end of classes." He pulled into the Hudson-Hummel driveway and parked Burt's pickup. "Two weeks after junior prom."

* * *

Finn lay on his bed, tired but afraid to go to sleep. He didn't want to risk losing any of those pieces in his head.

He held on to the mental shards tightly, even though some of them felt like they cut like real ones, all that frustration and want eating at him, sucking him into the pain they held. _Please, Rachel, take a chance on me. Don't turn away. Please, Rachel, take a chance on me. Don't turn away... _it tore through his mind, going around and around, squeezing him inside with remembered agony.

_Stop,_ he finally yelled at himself. _It's all done. Something worked and later she agreed to marry me. So calm the fuck down._ He sat up and forced himself to take a few deep breaths, pulling away a little from the fragments. _I just gotta get this straight._

_Happy. Sad. Angry. And not a little bit, all furious and frustrated and in despair and on top of the world. Intense. How can all that be one memory?_

He stared at the picture on his wall of the New York City skyline for a few moments. He must have wanted to remember New York, but most of those pieces, even different, they were all so painful. Different... then the realization hit him. _It's not pieces of __**one**__ memory. It's many._

_But they're all about that song, those lines I wrote. Why did I write them?_

He got up and started to pace around his room, pulling the pieces apart in his head.

Frustration. Words on a page. _Tell me why we've gotta stop..._

_Please, Rachel, take a chance on me. Don't turn away, don't say you can't. At least tell me why._

_We're so right together, I know it and you know it, and we're past all the other stuff now so why can't we...? _He'd done everything he could, they'd had such a good time going around New York, it all felt so right and he knew she felt it too. _So why, Rachel, why?_ Scrawling words on the page, tears blurring his vision. Feeling torn up inside. _I love you and I know you love me too, not him, please, it can't be too late for us..._

Frustrated that Rachel was turning away just when he was laying it all on the line for her. That some other guy might be coming between them. Writing those words, expressing that.

_Then what?_

Then, rehearsal. Expressing his frustration, but also pushing out the question. Wanting her to have to answer, singing more for her to hear him than actually caring about winning. _Screw the competition, a trophy's temporary but we can be forever. We have to be, we're tethered, we belong together._

_Tell me why, Rachel._

But then singing it, on stage, with the audience... triumph. Joy. Exhilaration, but more than performing. A big screaming _YES!_ in his head, his body ablaze, soaring, feeling like he'd won the one thing that mattered. The person that mattered. She'd heard him and he knew she was his. _Turn it up ten thousand watts, baby, that's us, we're on fire, perfect together, and the whole world's gonna know it. You and me, Rach, we can do anything together. Even win this thing._

All that, about two lines of a song. But it did seem to be making some sense now, and he felt less overwhelmed.

He'd better write this down so he wouldn't forget. Finn sat up and reached for the pad of paper and pencil that sat on his desk. _Look at me, mister studious_. He quickly wrote down what he figured was the sequence: needing Rachel and thinking about it, afraid that he was losing her, frustrated that she wasn't listening and writing those words, pushing it out at rehearsal trying to get her to listen and answer, then finally singing triumphantly on stage at the competition itself.

Then Finn was finally able to let himself go to sleep, with one final thought to himself: _Hey subconscious, I know you want out, so do your thing and help me make sense of this._

* * *

Finn slept late the next morning, mentally and emotionally exhausted. He'd expected to be out late anyway and didn't have class or work, so his alarm was turned off. As he awoke he groaned and turned to look at Rachel's picture, then slowly remembered what had happened the night before.

_Maybe not being entirely awake could help this too_, he thought sleepily, and picked up his notes. He scanned his apparent order, yawning, trying to let the matching thoughts come out.

_Wanting her, being blocked._

_Frustration, writing the words, seeing them on the page._

_Rehearsing the song, pushing the argument out, wanting her to answer._

_And performing, on top of the world, the words not an argument now, more like bragging._

Okay so far, it seemed right. But there was an important gap. Sometime in there, between rehearsal and performance, he'd won her over. Hadn't he?

It made sense. But the shrink had warned him from day one about the dangers of making stuff up for himself, that he could convince himself of something that wasn't true and think he remembered it.

But by the pictures on his wall, he must've been happy thinking about New York, picture of the skyline, even that bridge in Central Park. That one wasn't really his sort of thing to put up at all, it must be special.

_We'd had such a good time going around New York..._ the memory came out to him.

He'd taken her out. They must have gone to that place. But it hadn't worked, he'd pulled out all the stops but she'd still pulled away and he'd felt he was losing her. If that version was real, why did he have that picture on his wall, want to remember somewhere that he'd failed at something so important? And why had he thought he was losing her?

When was this? Two weeks after junior prom, Puck said.

_Junior prom. I went with Quinn, I saw the picture. We looked great together. But she also said it wasn't a good night. And a week later we broke up... that's how she put it. Puck said I dumped her for someone else._

_And that was Rachel. Rachel said we got back together when we got past our problems and realized we still loved each other. And Quinn said I was back with Rachel, for good, a little over a week after I broke up with Quinn._

_That's what this is,_ Finn realized._ This is me getting back together with Rachel. Wanting Rachel and getting her back. I wasn't afraid I was losing her, I was afraid I wasn't getting her back after being with Quinn. Losing my chance with her._

_Why'd I wait, once I broke up with Quinn for Rachel? Rachel must have made me wait, that's why I was frustrated. But why did I think there was some other guy? And when did we actually get back together, somewhere in the middle of this? God, I should just ask someone, they'd know. This is freaking hard._

But he knew it was better to get this stuff on his own. He could check, before he made himself too sure about it. Finn groaned in exasperation and went to take a shower.

He tried to put it all away as he washed, letting the sound of the shower and the feel of the water running over him take himself out of his head. And it worked, the memories were still there in the sort-of sense he'd figured out for the pieces, but he didn't have to keep thinking about them. Finn felt good, getting clean, feeling more like himself rather than a jumble of thoughts. He brushed his teeth and returned to his room to get dressed.

After pulling a shirt over his head, he caught sight of the bridge again. And suddenly he could feel himself on it, standing there in his suit, seeing Rachel in a blue dress coming towards him with a shy smile on her face. Felt the love, and need, and anticipation.

_It did work,_ he thought. _I went all romantic to sweep her off her feet, and it worked. Just not right away._ It was just a flash of memory, but he could see her, smell the flowers in his hand, and feel his heart warm and swell as she walked to him. _'I love you,'_ he thought, remembering._ 'This is the way it should be, us.'_

The intensity of the memory faded, and with it the feeling, but it was still in his head somewhere. He really had loved her.

* * *

Finn went down to the kitchen to have breakfast, finding his mom there cleaning up after hers, though after a night shift the name of her meal was a bit vague.

"You should get some sleep, Mom," he told her. "I can clean up."

"In a bit," she said, giving him a smile in thanks as he went to the fridge for milk. "I need to unwind a bit more first."

"Mom..." Finn frowned a little, thinking, attracting her attention. He looked back at her. "When Rachel and I got back together, that was when we went to New York, right? For Nationals?"

His mother looked at him appraisingly and gave him a strange smile. "You're remembering this?"

"Yeah. Well, stuff around it. Wanting to get her back, and then being really happy about it. Something came up last night that triggered it, just pieces but I think that's what it is."

Carole's smile widened as she relaxed. "That's great, Finn. And yes, that was when the two of you got back together. It was a little complicated – seems everything about you two is, though that's not a bad thing – but that's the basics."

Finn smiled, nodding. "Great."

"Things are really starting to come back, huh?"

"Seems that way. Just pieces so far but maybe it's getting easier to remember. It's really hard work putting them together, but it's worth it if it's coming back right." He took a deep breath, relaxing, feeling like he'd really managed to accomplish something.

"I'm proud of you, Finn," Carole said, giving him a hug. "Of course it's hard, but you're not giving up."

"No."

She smiled up at him. "Sounds like you had a good birthday."

"Yeah, a little like I'm being born again," Finn joked, then was hit by another 'this is familiar' feeling at those words. _Born again... I don't know. But something to do with Rachel, singing with Rachel. Kinda like everything else._

And later, after all that, it was good to go into the shop and work on cars for a while, not thinking.


	30. where is the wave that will carry me

Over the next few weeks it felt to Finn like the dam in his mind was getting quite a few holes, but very small ones. Every so often something would happen, like something he said or heard or occasionally thought, that would trigger either a feeling of familiarity or a short flash of memory. A sound, an image, like a split second of his life but not enough to really use for anything. Some of these were of Rachel, some of them not; one evening talking to his mom he caught a flash of an argument he'd had with her, something about Burt. He'd thought it over later and managed to get a greater sense of it, at least a general feeling that this was when she and Burt had started getting serious and he hadn't taken it too well. _Sorry, Mom._

Sometimes he could get a bit more out of these, if he tried exploring them a little, some context: a sense of place or how he was feeling, a bit of what else was going on with him then, or extending them. But they were just snippets, they didn't seem to lead into much of anything else or really change him as far as he could tell.

So some memories were there, and that was great, but... Finn was dissatisfied with their limited effect on how he felt. Sure, he was feeling stronger, less beaten down from the frustration he'd had when not remembering anything, but everything was still in pieces and he felt like he was too. In some ways it was worse than not remembering anything at all, he was stuck in between remembering and not, unsure from one time to the next just who he was and what he knew. But he supposed it had to get worse like that in order to get better, if it – he – did really get better. And it was progress.

Sitting in his room one evening, his homework done, he considered some of the memories again, thinking about his fragments from Nationals and hoping he could get a bit more to fill in the gaps. Sometimes he seemed to but he couldn't be sure, he was a little afraid of pushing too hard because he might just be making new stuff up. As for other times... he looked at that picture of Rachel by his bed, focusing on his hand holding hers, and he knew himself, he could tell the care with which his large hand held her small one. Touching her engagement ring, confirming that the hand it was on was part of the most precious thing in the world and she was his. Evidence that he'd felt like that about her, once. But even with the picture to remind him, he didn't remember being there, doing that, having that feeling.

Finn knew he cared for Rachel, and when he thought about those memories he'd brought back, of Sectionals and her kissing him afterwards, of writing and performing his lines of that song at Nationals, of meeting her on the bridge, when he really sank into them then he knew he loved her. But when he wasn't... he really didn't know how he felt, even though he certainly thought about her a lot. He tried to explain this to the shrink, about how he had those things and feelings so strongly in the memories, but not nearly as much outside them, and he'd been told he needed to give it time and hopefully the memories would integrate better. But how could that happen when all he had was pieces that didn't fit together?

It was like playing a complex drum fill, you needed to know more than just what to hit and the order, you needed to get the movement right so it flowed, so you could actually get from one strike to the next in a way that worked. Having used this comparison during his psych appointment, Finn then spent the next ten minutes talking about drumming basics, which he supposed did at least give the doctor a good idea of how Finn related to things, but... it didn't produce any answers. Just six _hmm_s and one statement at the end.

"You're missing not just pieces but also the transitions between the pieces you do have," Finn was told. Which was right, but okay he already basically knew that. Maybe now the shrink knew what he was getting at he'd have some advice next time. Or maybe these appointments were just to get Finn to talk and make sure he wasn't going off the deep end.

And how could the transitional stuff come back? How he'd been getting memories back, that had depended a lot on the uniqueness of the memories, big events that weren't like anything else. Transitions, the background rest of his life, usually you didn't even notice that stuff, but you needed it.

Finn fought for his memories, every flash he got he tried to get more out of, figure out how it fit with the rest. He'd never thought this hard about anything before, or even known he could, he'd never even worked anywhere near this hard for football practice or anything like that. But this was _for_ his life, nothing else had ever mattered so much. Finn was determined to squeeze as much memories out as possible, and he'd keep at it now he had some idea of how to do it. _I won't give up. I don't give up that easy..._ Finn broke off his contemplation as something else interrupted. School. Lockers. Rachel, younger, agitated. Himself, determined. _'I'm not just some guy you met at the music store you can just blow off.'_ Not going to give up, fighting to get her back. _Jeez, how many times did I have to do that?_ He rolled his eyes at himself. _How many times did you fuck it up, Hudson? God, this must be love for both of us to keep coming back, through all that._

These fragments were getting easier to have, the walls getting thinner, more pieces slipping through. But still pieces, small ones too, mostly just brief flashes that didn't come close to fitting together. He remembered more but they weren't really part of him. Most of them just sort of floated around, showing up when they wanted to but were hard to bring in deliberately or relate each other. And no transitions.

Meanwhile, the most important pieces were still gone. Memories of wanting Rachel, okay, and some of being happy with her, but none about getting her back. Or how they'd fallen for each other in the first place, or the various other steps they must have gone through to get from kids in their mid-teens who hardly knew each other to getting engaged two and a half years later. Not much of the big things that had made their lives what they had been. Maybe he'd have a chance to get those back when she was around again.

But even if he could get the big stuff, if he couldn't get the transitions – it would be like that china cup of his mom's that he'd accidentally broken when he was seven. She'd put all the pieces back together and repaired it, as well as could be done, but you could still see the joins, and even some gaps where some of it had just turned into dust and couldn't be put back. It was still better than losing it, he realized later that the cup had some significance for his mom that she never admitted to him, why else hold onto it after that, but it was never the same. Smooth curves marred by lines and gaps. It looked sort of right, if he squinted and didn't touch it, but it wasn't.

He didn't want that, not for his life and how he felt. He needed something more like the stuff they used at the windshield repair shop to fill in all the chips and cracks, make everything like new again. He made the mistake of using this comparison to Puck one night between _Call of Duty_ games, and had to put up with two plus weeks of comments about "mind grout". At least someone was getting amused out of this.

Hopefully they'll integrate, he'd been told. Huh. They hadn't yet, even the ones from Sectionals hadn't filled in and he'd had them for over a month now.

So he should 'give it time', sure, _fine_, but it's not like Belhaven had a girl like Rachel waiting for him to love her again. Not that there was another girl like Rachel, between the little he remembered and the time he'd spent with her, he knew she was one of a kind. Not always in the best way, but when you love someone you take the package deal and the package just works. He'd worried a little that maybe the love was all in the past and that's why it wasn't coming back, but he'd seen himself briefly in those pictures Kurt had showed him from the Fourth of July, and he had looked very happy then, just two days before the accident. What he was trying to bring back was real. But he couldn't be with her if he had to actively remember loving her in the past to do it, it needed to just be there, him now really loving her now. Part of his flow, his transitions, _himself_.

So even though he was putting things in place to get his future going, Finn knew his life was still on hold until he could recapture those feelings and get some sense of continuity in himself.

Staring off in thought, Finn's eye caught on his drum set in the corner. At least those transitions he could do. It'd help reinforce music for him, too, since it seemed to be what helped most. He settled on his stool, grabbed his sticks, and set his iPod to his drumming playlist, on shuffle. Shuffle kept his reflexes sharp and might even spring something on him unexpectedly that could help out.

He smirked as he heard the opening of "Back in Black", always a good one to play. And he started singing along, too, not in imitation because he didn't want to trash his voice, but to get into it more, start to think the words too, hope to make them real. To be back.

Transitions. Easier to get them when you didn't think about them, of course, drumming or not.

Finn drummed on, thinking about what Belhaven had said previously about patterns. Performances were good, because the pattern had been repeated, making it stronger. Repetition also got in the way, because there were different memories – but the performance itself was likely to be stronger than a rehearsal.

But it was much easier to fall into repeated patterns, like... Finn grinned as he realized he'd drummed most of "Back in Black" without really thinking about it, he'd practiced it so much. The pattern was ingrained. But that wouldn't help him remember one time he played it, he didn't even always think about it, and by now he couldn't really remember learning it in the first place.

He still felt it, though, felt the song and its rhythm reverberate through him. He finished the song and stopped the music while he thought about this.

Okay, so it might not work for memories. But he wasn't just trying to recapture memories, he wanted feelings too. Was there something he would have done a lot with Rachel, something that he would only have done with her? It might not help him remember any actual events, but it might help him feel the same way again, and make the remembered feelings more part of himself.

He winced as one rather obvious answer came to mind. But Finn thought more, about what Rachel was like, according to what he'd seen, what she'd said, what others had said about her... and he realized there was one thing that he must have done a lot with her that there was no way he would ever have done on his own, or with anyone else.

Finn frowned. It was probably going to be pretty unnatural, trying that without her, but... _worth a try I guess. _He could always do it again with her when she got back. And it would be better if he could do it in her room, like they probably would have before. He dug out his phone and called Rachel's home number.

"Hello, Mister Berry? It's Finn. I was just wondering, there's a big favor I'd like to ask of you..."

Some awkward discussion ensued, but Finn explained what he wanted to try doing and why, and Rachel's dads were soon on board with his experiment.

* * *

The next Friday evening Finn went over to the Berry house.

LeRoy answered the door and showed him up to Rachel's room. "We'll be downstairs if you need anything, Finn," he said, then left him alone. They'd gotten everything ready for him, even had a body pillow laid out for him if he wanted to use it.

He took a few minutes to look around first. Certainly he remembered it from when he'd come to see Rachel that one time before, but aside from that it didn't seem familiar. But he shouldn't force these things, he needed to just relax and take it in, hope it could feel natural even if he didn't remember it. Of course she'd moved some of her things to New York, her computer obviously gone, and he let himself be a bit nosy and look inside the closets. A lot of clothes still there, but plenty of space to show a lot was missing, too. He recognized the cherry dress he'd seen her in twice, but there was no sign of the pink one that haunted his dreams, the one she'd worn to the fair. Nightgowns at the end... he ran his fingers along them, they felt good to touch, but this was getting above and beyond a look around. He didn't really have permission since her dads had agreed to not tell her what he was doing, and his fantasies about her were already getting out of hand without him looking through her lingerie.

He looked around the room more, just absorbing it. The Nationals picture was gone from before, she must have taken it with her, but there were a lot of framed posters up, all from Broadway shows. He spotted the one from _Fiddler on the Roof_ that Puck had mentioned, and had a brief irrational flare-up of ire that Puck had known because he'd been here. Yeah, okay, he was jealous that anyone else had felt how great it was to kiss her, though it was completely obvious that there wasn't anything beyond a kind of combative friendship between those two. Who that other guy was, on the other hand, the one he'd been worried about coming between him and Rachel in his New York memories – no idea, other than "jackass". Though he hadn't dared sink into those memories much, the painful ones, whenever he tried he started feeling all twisted inside over something that was long since fixed. The guy he'd become had very strong feelings.

But back to what he was here for.

Finn went to Rachel's bed and laid down, pulling his legs up to fit onto it. It was too short for him really, though no more so than his old bed. He wrapped himself around the pillow and let his head fall against it with a sigh. It had been a long week with work and school, and he was pretty tired, so the pillow was welcome. It seemed to smell like her, strawberry and vanilla. He took a few deep breaths, inhaling the scent and relaxing himself, thinking about some of the memories he'd brought back. The one in the hall... that was a really good one, feeling her stroking up his chest and fingering his jaw, the intimate feeling of that deep kiss... when he sank into that one, he definitely loved her, couldn't get enough of her. Or at least the person he was then loved the person she was then, and he remembered what that felt like.

Then he pressed 'Play' on the remote, and _Funny Girl_ started.

* * *

Finn didn't find the movie appealing to him, but it was a biopic of an old stage actress so he hadn't expected to be interested in it. But it was okay, it wasn't annoying.

He did find himself wondering what Rachel's love for this movie said about her, aside from her love of Streisand and musicals, that song she sang, and her unconventional looks. But she was far more beautiful than the actress in the movie was. Did Rachel think about herself like that, not realize how beautiful she was? But he caught himself, that wasn't what he came to do.

_Don't think about that or actually watch the movie_, he told himself. _I wouldn't have before, not really. Just think of Rachel, being with Rachel while she watched it. _Wrapping her in his arms, feeling her hair against his cheek, breathing in her scent. Like when she'd snuggled up to him as they rode the Ferris Wheel at the fair. Finn held the pillow more tightly to him and buried the side of his face in it, his eyes mostly closed.

Eventually he fell asleep while the movie continued.

He woke up again as it was finishing, with the star doing her final number. And she was a great singer, no question, but he'd rather be sung to by a live Rachel any day than someone in a movie, no matter how great or famous. _That must have really been something, having a girl who'd sing to me_, he thought. _Cool. Hope I sang to her too. _And he hoped that they'd have a better ending than the movie did.

He took the movie out, tidied up after himself, and took a last look around Rachel's room before leaving. Her dads, sitting around the living room reading, looked up at him as he came slowly downstairs. He gave them a small smile.

"So... did you do what you intended to?" LeRoy asked.

"I fell asleep," Finn admitted sheepishly. "Got about halfway through, I think, then woke up at the end. It felt fine."

Hiram smiled. "I think you usually dropped off eventually," he said. "A lot of the time both of you fell asleep. We used to look in on you, after all."

"Of course." Finn nodded. They didn't seem at all agitated by remembering this, so he figured he'd been the good guy he wanted to have been, respecting her boundaries and all that. Though they had been about to move in together, so it was really apparent that eventually her boundaries had gone away, at least with him. Hopefully only with him. He wondered what her dads had thought about that, but there was really no way he could ask. "It didn't seem to be that kind of thing anyway, anything you'd have to worry about," he commented to them. Just Rachel's favorite comfort evening, or so he figured, watching the movie she loved while lying in the arms of the guy she loved. He felt good that he'd been part of that for her, even without remembering it. Or being interested in the movie.

"You know we're going to see her next week, for Thanksgiving, right?" LeRoy asked.

Oh, Finn knew that all right. He'd been annoyed at first, worried that she wasn't going to come back, that he would hardly see her again. But the way he was now, pieces there, pieces missing... he was glad he didn't have to go through that all with her, not now and not in such a short time. They'd have more time at Christmas.

"Yes," he said. "You... you'll make sure she's okay, right? I mean of course you will, you're her dads, but if you could do it for me too..." Finn babbled a little. He knew he didn't need to tell them to take care of their own daughter, of course they would, but he also didn't want to leave it unsaid. "I'd really appreciate it." Hiram nodded, while LeRoy gave him a strange smile. "And thank you again, for tonight. I don't know if it did anything, but it might fill in the background in my head a little."

As he went to sleep that night, Finn wondered: Did he feel any different? He decided against looking into it much, it seemed as though anything he'd found might be too tenuous to survive a strong look. But he felt better for having done it, and more hopeful that as pieces came back they might have something, some background continuity, to attach themselves to.


	31. racing down a river from the past

Late Wednesday night Carole returned from the Dayton airport with the other half of the family: Burt and Kurt, flown back from D.C. and New York, respectively. Finn welcomed them back, getting a very searching look from Kurt, but it was late and both travelers had put in a full day before their flights, so they all headed to bed quickly. There would be time to talk tomorrow.

Talk at breakfast was limited, though – Kurt had morning plans with Blaine and Burt wanted Finn to go with him to the tire shop. Not wanting to rush things, Finn decided to wait, though Carole did ask Kurt how things were going at NYADA.

"Is it as fabulous as you'd thought it would be?" she asked.

"More," Kurt answered with a small grin. "They really push us hard, but everyone understands that, and we push each other too. And not just in the ways you'd think, either. Everyone's so creative."

"How does Rachel like it?" Carole continued, with a small glance at Finn.

Kurt swallowed, then took another few sips of his orange juice. "It's perfect for her," he said, giving them all a smile. "She's being challenged in ways she never imagined, and she's doing brilliantly. It's all rather intense." He lowered his eyes briefly, and Finn saw a small frown cross his features.

"I hope it's not all work," Burt put in.

"Not all. But even the fun is pretty out there, stretching what we do," Kurt answered. "And we've made some friends, they're great and they've really taken to Rachel." He glanced at Finn, who found himself frowning at this, though of course he'd want Rachel to make friends and be happy where she was. "A couple of older girls," Kurt elaborated. "Friendly, high-energy. They're great and they've been a big help."

"Help?" Finn asked this pointedly, concerned.

"Getting used to everything, NYADA, New York..." Kurt trailed off. "I'd better go, I have to meet Blaine." He got up and cleared his plate. "I'll see you all later, I'll be back by three at the latest."

Finn was definitely not convinced that this was all, and he promised himself he'd get it out of Kurt later.

* * *

Finn and Burt spent a bit of time at the tire shop, Finn telling Burt how things were going, and then returned to the house to grab a bite to eat and watch football.

Shortly before three Kurt returned, and ten minutes later Finn excused himself to go talk to his stepbrother. Thanksgiving dinner was planned for four, and they could already smell it.

"Hey," Finn said, leaning on the door frame to Kurt's room. Kurt looked up from where he sat on his bed, raising his eyebrow. Finn considered asking straight out about Rachel, despite Kurt's evasiveness earlier, but something about Kurt's expression stopped him. "Are you okay? Everything fine with Blaine?"

"Yes," Kurt replied, but he couldn't conceal his exasperation. "Well, it would be if we could get a little privacy," he admitted, waving Finn to sit down. "Their place is a madhouse, Thanksgiving Central for their relatives this year." He sighed. "Some of them didn't even know he was gay, though they do now."

"Are they, like..."

"Homophobic? No, not that we could tell. Just surprised. And he wanted to be extra discreet so they could adjust." Kurt groaned. "Oh well, he's coming over here tomorrow."

"Cool. I'm surprised you're not hitting the sales though."

Kurt made a moue. "We will, a little. But if I was completely interested in the sales I would have just stayed in New York, they're so much better there."

"Guess they would be." Finn remembered something about Kurt's plans for New York. "Did you get the place done up like you wanted?"

Kurt stared at this question from Finn. "Please don't tell me that you're actually taking an interest in interior design. Not that it isn't long overdue, but Blaine said you were starting to remember things, not losing yourself entirely."

Finn grimaced. "I just remember what you said before, about wanting to get it done before having to argue with Rachel about it."

"Oh. Yes. Well, she didn't argue about it."

"That's good."

"Not really." Kurt sighed. "I probably shouldn't be telling you this."

Finn frowned. He'd heard that a lot before. "But you're going to anyway. People always do when they start like that."

Kurt rolled his eyes, but continued. "She just wasn't interested. And not in an I-don't-care-that-much or an I-know-I-have-no-taste way, which might be unexpected but refreshingly honest, but..." Kurt trailed off, his face sad as he thought about it.

"But what?" Finn asked, concerned.

"I _really_ shouldn't be telling you this."

"At this point you pretty much have to if you want me to not worry."

"You'll worry either way." Kurt swallowed. "She doesn't want to think about it at all. She won't even do anything with her own room, she has her things in there but she won't paint or do more than hang a picture. A single picture, the Nationals picture. I've tried to get her to do something, _anything_, at this stage she could paint it bright pink with yellow polka-dots and I'd be thrilled. I'd need sunglasses to go in there, but I'd be thrilled."

Finn stared, aghast. "What's wrong?"

"It's your room too, that's what's wrong." Kurt shook his head. "If you were there she'd probably get all adorably pigheaded and try to get her own way about it, but you're not there to argue with about it so she can't bring herself to do anything at all. As for the rest of the place, she lets me pick everything, which is almost the same problem for me, it's not nearly as enjoyable getting it the way I want it when I realize why it's so easy. The whole thing is yet another 'you'll get what you want in the worst possible way'."

"At least you get what you want."

"I get what I thought I wanted. That's so overrated."

"Yeah, I suppose it is." Finn thought for a moment. "Quinn was like that," he said. "I figured I should want her, and I guess I did at the time, but..."

"But what?" Kurt prompted, curious.

Finn shrugged. "I don't miss her, or even think about her. We were good on paper, I guess, but it wasn't real." He paused, not really wanting to expose himself too much, especially with his thoughts and feelings still so fragmented, but he did want to talk about this. "Not like Rachel," he admitted.

"Do you think about her a lot? Rachel?" Kurt asked.

"Every day." Finn paused. "How is she, Kurt? Really?"

"You really want to know?"

"Yeah, of course. What's going on?"

Kurt grimaced. "A whole lot of work," he said. "Of course NYADA is intense, and Rachel's always been very driven, but this is beyond that. Some weeks she spends all her spare time in the rehearsal rooms, she's only at home to sleep really." He frowned, seemingly not wanting to continue. "And sometimes not all that much of that," he finished in a small voice.

Finn was stunned. "Why? Is it the same thing, that I'm not there?"

"A lot of it's that. She won't even spread her things out, like she's leaving space for you but then she can't stand to look at it. And at night..." Kurt looked straight at Finn, and Finn could see the tears in Kurt's eyes, finding them spring into his own too. "She dreams, sometimes. Good dreams, bad dreams, well they're all bad really, because she wakes up alone in a bed too large for her, wanting you. I can hear her. And she's worried about you too, she knows there's nothing she can do, and you're probably right that giving her updates all the time would make her worse, but..." Kurt sighed. "What do I tell her, Finn? What do I tell her when I get back to New York, because even if she doesn't ask how you're doing she's going to want to know, and it'll just twist her up inside if I don't have something to say. And I miss you too, you know. None of this is easy."

Finn blinked back tears. He'd thought things would be better for her, they'd reconnected a lot before she left and she knew he was working on remembering, but he hadn't considered how lonely she would be, especially in a place where he was supposed to be with her. A place where he had been with her, too, he remembered their date in New York a bit and there was a lot there to remind her. She'd seemed all right, when he'd seen her on his birthday. He hadn't told her how he was doing, he hadn't wanted to bring her hopes up and dash them each time, and that was still probably better than the alternatives, but he hadn't thought about just how hard she would have it anyway. He swallowed. "So is this what you meant before, that these new friends are helping with?"

"Some of it. They're great, she's a lot less lonely, and she's told them all about you so it's easier, she doesn't have to hide herself. She can't be too much in a shell around them either, neither of us can. It helps. And they help me make sure she takes breaks every now and then."

"So she doesn't work too hard."

"Yes. She puts a lot of effort into her work anyway, she's even more driven than she used to be, and for Rachel that's saying a lot. She's in the December show, she's going to be amazing, and she's focused very much on that."

"To take her mind off me." Finn stared ahead. He wished he knew how to help her, how to fix himself. But he had too many holes, too much still forgotten and conflicting. He just had to hope she could get through it until more came back. Until he was enough himself.

"Like that's even possible." Kurt paused to blow his nose, then refocused on Finn, who still stared off, listening. "She isn't stopping herself from thinking about you, Finn, she can't. The two of you didn't get engaged in high school because you were looking for that – Rachel originally didn't plan on making any significant personal attachments until she was already a star. Then she met you, and that all went completely out the window. To her benefit, I must add, she made a lot of friends too, and she's a better person. But you showed her what she really needed, and she can't turn that off. So she's not getting her mind off you, she's just channeling her pain and loneliness. Being an artist is like that."

That last phrase hung in the air as Finn's mind drifted. _Being an artist..._

"Being an artist... is about expressing your true feelings in the moment," Finn said slowly, softly.

"That's one way of looking at it."

"That's – she told me that. Rachel."

"When?"

"In... the library."

"That's where."

"I don't know when. Before."

"Are –" Kurt saw the look of mixed bewilderment and concentration on Finn's face, and moved to sit next to him. "Are you remembering this? Right now?"

"Yeah," Finn breathed.

"Do you –" Kurt stopped as Finn waved him off sharply. Finn had closed his eyes, his face screwed up in thought as he visualized where he'd been and what he'd been thinking and feeling back then.

"Sitting down in the aisle," Finn muttered. "Feel like crap, couldn't control myself, ruined everything, ruined her chance, she must hate me. Good to see her though, glad she found me, that she was looking for me." He shook his head and opened his eyes. "All I got."

"It's not like you spent much time in the library."

"Probably why I hid out there. She must've looked everywhere. And..." he looked puzzled. "Even though I'd been hiding from her I was glad she'd found me."

"Like you wanted her to make the effort?"

"Yeah, maybe." Finn swallowed. "Wanted to see her but wanted to know that she wanted to see me. Feeling guilty but happy that she's there."

"And she told you about being an artist, about expressing yourself."

"Yeah. To make me feel better about what I'd done. Losing control. Doing what I felt in the moment." Finn's eyes were closed again.

"And what were you feeling, in that moment?"

Finn's lips parted and he leaned slowly towards Kurt.

"Uh, Finn..." Kurt put a hand out and shoved his stepbrother back. "Not Rachel."

Finn opened his eyes and shook his head sharply, shocking himself back to reality, to now. "Sorry," he said, embarrassed. "Got lost. Like I heard her, not you."

"That's okay." They sat in silence for a moment, both looking at the floor, letting the embarrassment dissipate. Kurt eventually cleared his throat. "So, kissing her... was that what you were doing then or what you were thinking about?"

"Um..." Finn shook his head. "Both?" he continued hesitatingly.

"That doesn't exactly narrow it down," Kurt commented, frowning. "The two of you kissed a_ lot_. But losing control and kissing her... hold on, it's Nationals." Kurt's voice raised in excitement. "It has to be."

"We won Nationals, I've seen pictures. Doesn't sound like anything got ruined. Or..." Finn suddenly became more alert. "Do you mean Nationals in _New York_?"

"Yes, New York. Why are you interested in that suddenly? Do you remember anything from that?"

"Yeah, I remember the song, writing it, performing it. It's really split, I'm so frustrated before but I feel great when we do it." _Is it more of that, something to fit the pieces together?_

"Must be the group number. 'Hey-hey-hey you and me...'?"

"Yeah, that one."

"What I'm thinking about was right before that performance."

"But I felt really great. Amazing, on fire. Not like I'd screwed up."

"We didn't know it was a problem until later."

"What are you talking about?" Finn stared at Kurt. "I know I don't like to be told stuff, it's better if I can remember, but all these hints are playing with my head. And it's a hole between stuff I do remember, it's been driving me nuts for weeks. Out with it, Kurt, please?"

Kurt took a deep breath. "Actually I can show you. But this could be tough, or weird, or whatever. Risky, anyway, from what you've said about looking at yourself in pictures."

"what do you mean?"

"There's video. And I don't know what it'll do for you to see yourself, a self you don't remember being."

"Oh." Finn frowned. "Yeah, sometimes it can just push the memory further away, my shrink says. If it doesn't feel real." But he thought momentarily, intrigued. It would be hard to know about it and not watch it, and he'd wondered about that hole for so long, afraid that if he pushed at it too hard he'd make something up. "But at least I can't confabulate it, right? It has to be real if there's video."

"Well video can be faked. But this isn't, I was there. Me and over a thousand others."

Finn thought about it. Yes, it was a problem, but he really wanted to know, not just because of Kurt's hints or because he'd been thinking about it in the memory flash, but because it could answer his question about that gap, when he reunited with Rachel. Maybe even how he'd changed her mind. He nodded. "Okay."

Kurt brought out his laptop, cued up a video, and started it. They saw an empty stage, heard some rustling in the crowd, then the initial chord played, and Finn saw the two of them, himself and Rachel, entering the stage from opposite ends.

_face to face and heart to heart_

Looking at himself, walking on stage, hearing himself start to sing, when he didn't remember any of it – Finn started to panic at the discontinuity. "Shit, I can't do this," he muttered. He snapped his eyes closed and lowered his head.

"No, Finn, look at it," Kurt pressed. "Look at that guy, look at his face, it's plain as day what he's feeling. Look at him, listen to his voice, make it feel real."

Finn forced his eyes open to look at the screen, focused on that face, his own face, and the raw need written on it.

Kurt's voice came in his ear, quietly, insistently. "Do you remember being that guy?"

It was a crappy video, but Finn could almost feel like he was meeting his own eyes, seeing the intensity with which they were looking at Rachel. As he flicked his eyes over to her image, for a moment he was there. On the stage, singing his own words, needing her, loving her, knowing that she loved him but was pulling away. Needing to feel her lips on his just one more time, sure that if he could only kiss her she would understand, she'd feel it too and she couldn't walk away. Closing in.

And then, finally, as they finished in front of each other, seeing her rise to him as he lowered to her, and feeling the rest of the world go away as their mouths met. Electric. And feeling that familiar smouldering inside flare up to consume them both.

Finn breathed for a moment, watching himself on the screen, feeling the echo of that kiss, and then, the same exhilaration he remembered from the performance of the group number, only a hundred times more strong.

"Yes."

Sudden silence descended, with the video over; Kurt's breath caught as Finn's answer registered. "You do?"

"Yeah. It's..." Finn closed his eyes again, his emotions washing over him. "Some of it. It's hazy. But I feel it." He exhaled. "That was risky, Kurt."

"What, I should have let you bail?"

"I don't know. You rolled the dice with my head, not cool." Finn frowned. "But something worked so I can't be mad about it."

"Good," Kurt responded. Then, more quietly, "So what did you remember?"

"Being there, kind of. How it felt. But... more like I was remembering being there...?" Finn was puzzled. The memories overlapped, but not the clash he'd had before, more like it faded from watching it to being there and back again, back and forth.

"Remembering remembering?"

"Yes. Like I'd..." Finn groaned. "Of course, I would have watched this and remembered being there, so that's what I'm tapping into."

"So as you watch the video now, you remember watching the video before, and back then you were remembering actually being there?"

"Yes." Finn shook his head. "I need whole new verb tenses to classify what's going on in my head," he complained. "Holy shit this is complicated. Accessing a memory by remembering a previous time when I was thinking about it." He sighed. "Well it's there, that's what counts I guess, even though it's still really fuzzy. And now I know."

"Now you know what?" Kurt asked curiously.

Finn frowned, not really wanting to dump out private thoughts, still struggling with what he knew and felt, and certainly how to express it. "I remembered writing my lines for the other song, and how I felt, so frustrated about how things were with Rachel, and then in performing it I felt so awesome... but I didn't know how I got from one to the other."

"And now you do."

"Yeah." Finn thought about those times again, wondering if the memories would fit together, especially with one running into the other, but... they didn't really. Maybe because one was indirect. Or maybe he did need some mental grout to stick them together. "Just gotta give it time I guess. But it's hard, especially with how Rachel's doing, I need to get this worked out."

Kurt sighed. "Maybe I shouldn't have told you all about that."

Finn shook his head. "It's hard enough not knowing what has happened, if I also don't know what's happening now I really am going to lose it." He ran his hand through his hair. "I'll think about what you should tell her," he said softly. "Maybe send a message, she needs to know I'm thinking about her."

"Yes, she'd like that."

"I do remember her," Finn admitted. "It's not much, but I do and it's good. It's coming, you saw how it happens sometimes, flashes when something's similar. It's just all in pieces, islands, no continuity and it's different times and feelings. I just have to keep working at it."

"I can't imagine what that's like."

"Really, really weird. Pieces, what I know changing all the time, not really assimilated either." Finn exhaled. "In a lot of ways it was easier before I started remembering. Still glad I do, though, even if it means right now I don't really know who I am." _Just have to hope._

"Hmm."

"You sound like my shrink," Finn commented. Then he realized the time. "Hey, shouldn't dinner be ready by now?"

Kurt chuckled. "Oh, I think you know who you are," he said, winning him a mock glare from Finn. "Come on, let's go feed your brain. I got tired just watching you wade through that, I don't think I've ever seen anyone try that hard to think."

* * *

_Please review!_


	32. let your heart be the anchor

Early Thanksgiving morning, Rachel had just showered and dressed when she was interrupted by a loud banging at her apartment door. She opened it curiously, then laughed when she saw Megan and Amanda.

Megan held a large coffee cup out to her. "Hi. This should get you going."

Rachel took it with a smile, but still didn't know what was going on. "Going where? My dads don't arrive until early afternoon."

"And my train doesn't go until noon," Amanda said. "If we hurry we can get a good spot for the parade."

"Parade?"

"Yes, parade, the thing that nobody's going to rain on," Amanda quipped. "Thanksgiving in New York, Macy's, large balloon spectacular, sounds familiar? You haven't lived until you've seen them up close, and if we watch it near the start I can see it all and still catch my train." She hefted her large shoulder bag, already packed for her trip back to Boston.

"Didn't we talk about this?" Megan asked. She shrugged at Rachel's confused look. "Well we meant to, sorry. Luckily you're already up. Drink your coffee and get some spring into your step."

Rachel sipped at the coffee. She was caught rather by surprise, but she found she didn't care – their enthusiasm was so infectious, and she was still blown away by how wonderful it was to have these two friends who'd taken to her so quickly. She'd never had that before, never had anyone who just met her and liked her straight away, practically demanding that she do fun things with them. As long as she could meet her dads when they arrived, the rest of her plans didn't matter. And the parade should be great. She gave her friends an excited smile and grabbed her purse. "Let's go."

They staked out good spots on Central Park West and waited, Amanda entertaining the other two with hopefully highly exaggerated stories about the past Thanksgiving antics of her extended family. "I don't dare not go," she stated at one point. "It's not far, and I'd hate to find out afterwards that I'd missed a food fight with the candied yams or anything like that. It hasn't happened yet, but two of my cousins get so close, every year, that it'd be just my luck to miss the one time it happens."

"You're lucky your hair is red," Rachel said with a giggle, which won a snort from Amanda.

"Oh I can duck. But you're right, at least the stuff should blend in."

Finally the parade started, and Rachel realized why they'd been so insistent that she go. She'd seen it on television before, but that was nothing compared to the feeling of having those gigantic colorful shapes floating above her. She immersed herself in the wonder of the moment, only pulled out of it eventually when she saw a girl being hoisted up onto her tall boyfriend's shoulders, and thought of how it would have been with Finn. Even from the ground and surrounded by much taller people, the balloons were amazing; with Finn's support, she would have felt she could touch the sky. _Next year_, she told herself with hope and determination. _Next year, and it'll be even more wonderful having seen it differently before._

After the parade she went with Megan to see Amanda off at Penn Station, then they hung around Times Square until it was time for Rachel to meet her dads at their hotel. Megan was having dinner with her current boyfriend's family, with a fair amount of trepidation because it felt too serious a step for her, so she was headed home to change.

Rachel's dads had texted her from their cab, and she was waiting for them in the hotel lobby when they arrived. Cries of "Rachel!" "There's our princess!" told her they were there, and she raced to meet them.

It felt so good to have them here. As they hugged her tightly, the familiar love of theirs enveloped and supported her, reminding her that no matter how much she might have to struggle with other things, she always had that.

They checked in and she went with them up to their room, asking about their trip, how things were back home, the usual sort of pleasantries. They, in turn, told her how grown up she looked and that they always knew she'd flourish in New York, no matter how much they missed her at home. She sighed happily, comforted by this.

They walked around for a while together, finishing at the vegan restaurant Rachel had booked for Thanksgiving dinner. She felt very adult doing that, showing them around part of the city and being in charge, their father-daughter relationship adjusting to the new situation. The meal was excellent, as expected, and they complimented her on her choice of place.

It was also so different from their small family meal at home last Thanksgiving that she was only sometimes reminded of it, that long weekend with far too many parents around. She and Finn had been lovers for just a few weeks then and had had such difficulty finding somewhere to be alone. While this year's dinner had the same people, her and her dads, the rest was very different, and she felt different. Yet under it all she still had the same desperate craving, needing Finn.

* * *

On Friday Rachel's dads came to see the apartment, and then she gave them a tour of NYADA.

In the dance rehearsal rooms they ran into Megan, who had been practicing her part for the December show, and she joined them for the rest of the tour. Rachel's fathers were very happy to meet their daughter's friend.

As they walked down the hall connecting the rehearsal rooms to one of the large auditoriums, a young blond man turned a corner, saw them, and quickly moved away. Megan laughed as they saw Paul Tervo retreat so rapidly.

"Who's that?" Hiram asked. "He looked almost scared of you."

Rachel reddened. "I suppose he is," she said ruefully.

"Oh, don't be sorry," Megan told her. "He deserved it." She turned to Rachel's dads. "He's not scared of her, not exactly, he's scared to be around her or seen with her," she explained.

"I don't see the distinction," Hiram frowned. "I hoped you wouldn't have difficulty with people here, honey," he told Rachel.

"I haven't, just..." Rachel sighed. "Paul was interested in me and wouldn't take no for an answer, so I had to make my point more strongly. Of course I hadn't told him why I wasn't dating, I hadn't wanted to unleash my drama on the people here, not all at once, but I shouldn't have had to."

"Of course not," LeRoy put in, encouraging her to continue. "Anyone should simply respect your answer."

"Anyway, one day he pushed me too far and I told him why I don't date."

"Rather loudly and in the middle of the quad," Megan put in, earning her a sharp look from Rachel. "Hey, you should be proud. It was quite the rant and he deserved it. Especially since he kept touching you."

"He touched you?" LeRoy cast an angry look in the direction that Paul had gone.

"Not in a bad way," Rachel explained hurriedly. "But it was certainly a personal style of touch, I told him not to, and he kept doing it."

"So she told him off," Megan said. "Your little girl can take care of herself, trust me. Everyone heard it or heard about it. She's quite the hero to the musical theater crowd, we're a small group here and very protective of our own."

"And now he's afraid of you?" Hiram started to smile. "Didn't he apologize?"

"He tried, sort of, but it was more about how it wasn't his fault because he hadn't known about Finn –"

"And it shouldn't have mattered," Megan chimed in. "And then he was after her to accept his 'apology', and Amanda told him that the proper way to apologize for harassing someone is not to keep harassing her _with_ the apology."

"Which I think he actually understood," Rachel commented.

"Oh, 'Mand can be very direct when she ditches the Latin," Megan said. "'Just say sorry and get lost' is direct."

"So that was him getting lost?" LeRoy asked, starting to chuckle.

Rachel smiled. "I think so. He's not in our program, he's a drama major, so we're not around each other that much now that he's given up."

"And he's hoping that people will forget his embarrassment if he's never seen near you again," Megan remarked with a smirk.

Rachel laughed. "That too."

LeRoy and Hiram both looked carefully at their daughter, but she didn't seem to be bothered by the story she and Megan were telling. She was doing well.

* * *

Rachel's dads were staying until Sunday morning, so she had further opportunities to show them around New York. Of course they'd been here many times before, but she tried to add a more personal touch to the places she showed them, and they went along with it in a very endearing way. They had done the same about the apartment, she realized, since they were the ones who had found it in the first place. It was sweet, how they were letting her be the host, though of course this was also a good way to find out how she was doing and what she'd been up to. They'd even taken in her half-empty room without comment, which was more than Kurt managed a lot of the time. And they'd gone to watch her rehearse at NYADA, and that had felt normal, dancing and singing to their effusive praise in much the same way she had her whole life. They couldn't come back for the show, which wasn't new either, but at least they could see her this way.

Rachel spent more time at home that weekend than she usually did, and it felt more comfortable than it usually did. She certainly enjoyed being able to cook dinner for her dads again, and in her own kitchen as well. All very grown up. But still without the man she loved by her side, the one she'd envisioned being with her when _they_ welcomed her parents to _their_ home together. And her dads couldn't help the affectionate looks and touches that they exchanged between themselves, as normal a part of them as breathing. They'd be wrong without those. But she should have had that too.

_Christmas_, she told herself. _Focus on the show, get through the term, and we'll see where we are at Christmas. _The way Finn had looked at her after she'd sung to him on his birthday – she could use a lot more looks like _that_. And his mouth on hers, and his strong arms around her... but she'd start with that look and go from there. Again. As many times as she had to.

* * *

Sunday evening Rachel was in the kitchen of the apartment, cleaning up after her supper, when Kurt returned. She went to greet him with a hug. "Welcome home," she said. "How was Thanksgiving?"

"It was fine," Kurt said. "Great to see everyone."

"And how is Blaine?" Rachel moved away to allow Kurt to come in and sit down.

Kurt beamed. "Blaine is wonderful. He says hello and hopes we'll leave some of the triumphs in New York City for him next year."

Rachel smiled at this, but soon quieted and saddened. She didn't begrudge Kurt his visit with Blaine, or his expectations of their future reunion, but like everything else it was a reminder of what she'd lost. And she couldn't bring herself to ask about Finn, not right now. She turned away and started to walk to her room.

"Finn gave me a message for you," Kurt called after her, and she turned back, her heart suddenly lifting.

"Really?" her question was barely breathed.

"Well I'm not making it up," Kurt replied, his voice encouraging. "Want to hear it?" Rachel almost ran back to the couch, and she sat looking hopefully at Kurt.

"He has 'islands', he said," Kurt recounted. "Specific things he remembers, not connected together, but he's been working on ways of bringing things back. They work sometimes, but it's hard and it's not that reliable. But he's hopeful, and you're in some of them, and he's really looking forward to you coming home."

"Oh..." Rachel gasped, tears coming to her eyes. _He's remembering. Finn is remembering, and he's remembering__** me**__. Maybe it's only a start but it is a start._

"And he wants to sing with you. Apparently singing helps." Kurt clasped his hands together. "Puck's got some sort of regular karaoke night going for the gang that's still in Lima, and Finn's really been enjoying it."

"Just try to stop me," Rachel said, smiling through her tears.

"I wouldn't dare even if I wanted to."

"What do you think about how he's doing?" Rachel asked tentatively.

Kurt shifted his eyes. "Ah... I'm not sure what you mean."

"That was what Finn wanted you to say. But what do you think yourself? I'm not asking you to break any confidences, but you know how worried I am about him, I need to know how you think he is. Please."

Kurt frowned, then sighed and relented. "He's Finn. A little different, more awkward, and more confused from time to time than even at his previous worst, but he's Finn." Rachel nodded, encouraging him to say more. "And he's crazy about you. More than he's willing to say and probably more than he even knows, but he is, he's just really unsure of himself. And with good reason, even at his fastest growing he wouldn't have changed so much so fast, every time he remembers something more his perspective changes, and he still has a lot missing."

Rachel teared up again. "Are you sure?" she gasped.

Kurt rolled his eyes. "Finn being unsure of himself is relatively normal, but _you_?"

"But how can you know?"

He gave her an encouraging smile. "As even you must admit, though we love him, Finn is not one of the world's great thinkers. But I have seen him think more carefully and with more determination than I would have ever thought possible, and he's doing it for one reason only. He's trying to remember. And as far as I can tell, the only thing he really cares about remembering is _you_."

"Oh..." Rachel rose and enveloped Kurt in a hug. "Thank you," she choked out, her head muffled by his shoulder. Kurt rubbed her back.

"One way or another, he's yours," Kurt said. "Even without remembering the rest. You just need to be patient."

Rachel gave Kurt a last squeeze and pulled back to look up at him. The life was returning to her eyes, and the look on her face reflected her own renewed determination. She could be patient, but only as much as she had to be. "What can I do to help?"

"To help?"

"Yes. What sorts of things help him remember? Music, you said. Anything special?"

Kurt blinked, apparently having a hard time keeping up with her sudden shift. She supposed he'd gotten used to how she'd been recently. She waited as he paused, frowning intently, clearly considering how to put it. "Similarity to things that happened before," he said. "Like phrases you've said, songs you've performed, things like that. As close a match as possible. It doesn't always work but sometimes it does and it's the only thing that has."

"So I should remember those things accurately myself so I can use them," Rachel stated. She could help Finn; this gave her an energy back that she hadn't entirely realized she'd lost. She could help Finn, and she would. She was so very touched at Kurt's description of how hard Finn was working on his memories, and how he was doing it for her. He shouldn't have to fight it alone.

"Yes. But he has to be relaxed, so you probably have to slip it in somehow."

"Right." Rachel nodded determinedly, then thought about what some of those things might be. Music, as similar as before, something he could just come across, but significant... and she smiled. "I have an idea," she said, glowing. "But I'm definitely going to need help."

* * *

A week later, Finn was spending part of his Sunday afternoon drumming, since his mom was out and he could really let loose. He had his playlist on shuffle, as usual; so far it had been on a British kick, giving him some Stones, Zeppelin and Pink Floyd, and he figured he'd take a break after another song or two.

He smiled as he heard the opening notes of his favorite Journey song. He started singing as well as drumming, enjoying himself, realizing after a moment that there wasn't a vocal track; it must be something he'd practiced with for Glee, he decided. (*)

_Just a small town girl  
living in a lonely world  
she took the midnight train going anywhere_

He was relaxed, drumming along, pausing from singing as another voice suddenly washed over him:

_Just a city boy  
born and raised in South Detroit  
he took the midnight train going anywhere_

Rachel.

And he saw her, wearing a red shirt, smiling at him, their eyes connecting. Their arms stretching out, reaching for each other.

Finn's face exploded in a grin and he drummed on, continuing to sing, his energy building. Feeling that connection again as he remembered it.

_A singer in a smoky room_

Rachel, again:  
_A smell of wine and cheap perfume_

Then their voices blended and he could feel them come together, arms loosely around each other's waists, eyes still meeting.  
_For a smile they can share the night  
It goes on and on and on and on_

Their eyes had linked, but it was more than that, their shared joy in singing. Starting to connect with each other, feeling that there was something between them, a type of understanding, something real. Not for the last time, but this was the first, where it all began. Rachel. And they sang on, together, the other four were around them but he really only saw her.

_Strangers waiting  
Up and down the boulevard  
Their shadows searching  
In the night  
Streetlight people  
Livin' just to find emotion  
Hidin', somewhere in the night..._

Finn grinned, feeling the resonance of the happiness and energy he'd felt singing then, but more than anything so happy that he had this, that he'd remembered the start of it all. And it felt real in a way that the other memories hadn't, actually part of him, maybe because it was the start, so soon after the last of his old memories.

In fact... Finn stopped the music and let his mind flow, agape.

He thought back a little, finding what had led up to that song as well, Mr. Schue getting him to join Glee Club in exchange for overlooking the drugs that had somehow been found in his locker, all the grief that Quinn, Puck and the team had given him, but how he'd felt music touch him and wanted not to lose it. Deciding to return to Glee even though Mr. Schue was leaving and Finn was off the hook.

Everything back to the start of sophomore year, really, the memories linking together as if they'd never been gone.

"Yes!" Finn threw his head back and yelled in triumph. He didn't know what this recording was doing in his drum playlist, it certainly hadn't been there before, but... he mentally kicked himself on realizing that he did know. Rachel had recorded it for him, once she'd gotten his message, she must have. And she'd had someone, his mom and maybe others, put it on his iPod. He usually didn't bother taking it to work, he just left it by the drums. Which was good, he'd let them keep pulling things on him if they worked like this, Rachel holding her hand out to him now kind of like she'd actually done then.

She really was amazing. And he was so happy he remembered this, joining Glee Club, meeting her, singing with her. Starting to connect with her as they sang together.

But as he followed those threads of memory, there was more. Much more. More Glee, more Rachel, more everything.

Talking to Rachel at his locker, Quinn coming up and being vicious. He don't think he'd noticed how mean she'd been to Rachel at the time, he'd been too worried about what she thought of him, but he remembered it, and he sure noticed it now. It probably helped that Quinn had admitted to it, hard to believe he hadn't been more concerned about dating someone who could be so casually cruel. At least she seemed to have grown out of it now.

That outrageous and highly uncomfortable (but still fun) "Push It" number at the assembly. Still better than disco, even knowing how much crap they caught for it afterwards.

Even... singing with Rachel, practicing on the stage at McKinley. His idea, and whatever excuses he'd made to himself at the time, he'd really wanted to spend more time with her and get closer to her. His voice was rough but she was encouraging him, then he suggested they take a break, and she'd laid a picnic blanket out. Rachel kneeling down in an extremely short skirt.

_Holy... _Finn was ecstatic as all this came to him. He remembered all this... starting to fall in love with Rachel. He hadn't known at the time, but that was what this was. He'd even sort of tried to tell her how she affected him, but he hadn't really understood it himself. The memory and his interpretation of it, all there.

_His hand over his heart, and her hand on his. "It's beating really hard."_

_His thumb wiping the drop of cosmo from her lip, feeling the softness that was so inviting._

_Her deep brown eyes, wide and vulnerable. "You know you can kiss me if you want to."_

_"I want to."_

Those words... she'd tried that on him again, that day in her room, but he hadn't known it.

And kissing her, that time it really was the first time, laying her back on the blanket under him, feeling the soft pressure of her mouth under his... it felt _so good_. But the whole thing was really arousing, he came in his pants and had to run off, leaving Rachel in tears behind him. They'd come pretty close to that on the repeat, too.

And then...

Then he couldn't stop thinking about her. She seemed so much nicer than Quinn really, didn't play games or get mean the way Quinn did, sure Rachel was kinda crazy but... it suited her. She let herself be herself, she didn't try to hide it or claim any different. She was pretty cool, and honest with him, and when she sang it touched him deep inside. And he couldn't stop thinking about her.

But he couldn't do anything more with Rachel as long as he was with Quinn, and it would be insane to split up with Quinn – he was the quarterback, she was the beautiful head cheerleader, they should be together right? He'd be walking away from all that popularity and everything else that Quinn always said would be the rest of high school for them. And his friends were giving him a hard enough time about joining Glee, if he traded Quinn for Rachel he'd be next in the dumpster. But he couldn't stop thinking about Rachel and what it had felt like to kiss her, how much he liked talking to her and being around her. How amazing it was to hear her sing, and sing with her. How she made him feel real, like maybe he could do something with his life, and how she listened to him in a way that Quinn never did.

He was trying to come to a decision, maybe see if he could talk to Quinn the way he talked with Rachel or find out he couldn't. Really this was just something he had to work through before making the big change that he needed to, but then Quinn was avoiding him so he couldn't talk things over with her, and then... his world crashed in and any choice disappeared when Quinn told him she was pregnant and convinced him it was his.

Wow.

And... that was it, the end of those memories. But still, wow. That was weeks, right at the beginning of it all, the time that Rachel had wished that he'd had. And he did love her, much more than a little. Weird to see how confused he'd been back then, but he hadn't known what to make of those feelings of his. He knew now, even though they were newly growing, he'd been falling in love with Rachel. And he felt it now, as well.

Only he was also really pissed at Quinn, knowing now how he'd connected with Rachel and how Quinn's lie had torn them apart. Water under the bridge, and she'd really helped him back in July, but... she'd been right in the bad things she'd said then about her younger self. She'd done a number on Puck, too, he couldn't imagine Puck had been happy to lose out on his own kid, at the time. If Quinn hadn't cared so much about status they could all have been happy.

And Finn's regained memory slammed up against the same wall now as his relationship with Rachel had back then.

* * *

Finn went eagerly to his next psych appointment, making a side bet with himself that he'd get at least an 'extremely promising' from Belhaven this time. He grinned at the doctor and told him what he remembered now, what had triggered it, and best of all that it felt real, integrated into his other memories and himself. He actually had a hard time figuring out where the newly regained stuff started, and figured he only could because he'd spent so long thinking about his last known memory before that.

The doctor gave him a genuine smile. "That's great, Finn." Finn decided that 'great' was better than 'extremely promising' – the dude was actually using normal words, and not a single 'hmm'. _Bet won._

"It's interesting how well you connected with the recording," Belhaven added. "Without anything else really having to be the same."

"Uh, yeah," Finn said hesitatingly. He hadn't thought about it that way, but that was right. It hadn't been a big performance or anything like that either. Maybe this really was getting a whole lot easier. "The split was exactly the same, though, how we did the vocals before. She would know so she got it spot on." He thought a little more. "And it wasn't really a performance or anything like that, but it was really important for us and got my energy going." Finn waited as the doctor thought, starting to wonder himself why it had worked and what it meant about what else might work.

"It's possible that because you just heard her, you had to visualize her, and that helped bring the memory back."

_Sounds plausible but... _"Hold on," Finn blurted, not liking what this might mean. "Does that mean it could be harder to remember if she was actually here?"

"It might," the doctor said, nodding. "For the way you're bringing back memories right now, it seems as if your mind is supplying the missing pieces to what you're experiencing because the experience itself is incomplete. You heard her but you didn't see her, so your memory supplied the image to go with what you heard."

"But that's not the same as what happened before, when I performed, everyone was there and I still remembered it."

"That was a very close match, from what you've said. And you still added things that weren't there, like the audience, the way performing makes you feel, and that likely helped bring back the rest. Every regained memory you've told me about, there's some way in which the memory is better than the trigger. The high of performing. Seeing Rachel there and connecting with her. Many other things. It can come down to whether your mind feels that there are holes for it to use memory to fill in. If you're involved with what's happening right then, or the trigger is as good as the memory, you're less likely to have that."

_And real Rachel would be better than remembered Rachel. __**Shit.**_ Finn groaned and rubbed the back of his neck.

"But as usual this is just a possibility. It's also possible that you'll remember a lot more when you're with her again, you're so much farther ahead than where you were when she left."

"So she could make it easier for me to remember... or she could make it a lot worse."

"Yes."

"Damn," Finn breathed. He'd been looking forward to seeing her again, so much. And she was coming back in just a few weeks.

"That's for things that are by accident, of course. There's the potential to engineer something that might help, if holes are left deliberately, but I wouldn't recommend it. You've had to be very relaxed every time, from what you've told me."

_So she might help, but most things probably wouldn't, like I didn't remember when she redid the kiss. __**Fuck.**_ It was so frustrating that just when he thought he was finding a way out, and getting close to being able to properly reunite with Rachel, it seemed like her return would make it harder for him to regain who he was. Because no matter what they tried to redo, having her with him would always be better than just remembering her.

**_Aargh._**

* * *

___* "Don't Stop Believin'", as performed by Journey, written by Jonathan Cain, Steve Perry and Neal Schon._

* * *

_pause, review, please!_


	33. let the truth of love be lighted

Finn was frustrated. Worse, he was frustrated with being frustrated. Every time he got a few steps forward it seemed that the way on was blocked with some new obstacle.

He'd slept so well the night before, his mind full of his old memories of how he'd first connected with Rachel and how she'd affected him. He'd been happy at all the progress he'd had, and the hope that Rachel's return would help with more. He'd been looking forward to telling her what he remembered, too, hoping that maybe they could sing their New York duet together and that would help him lock those fragments down and get much more of it, since it was significant. And she'd be happy, and... But his shrink's explanation of what was going on when Finn remembered things made sense, that he added stuff from memory when the similar repeat was missing something.

Doing anything with Rachel – he couldn't see why he'd switch to a memory instead, not if she was really here.

So now Finn couldn't get to sleep, preoccupied with the problem he now faced: How could he keep on remembering?

_Options. There have to be some options for this._

Not being around Rachel until he remembered more was a total non-starter. He missed her, he knew she missed him even more, she might understand in her head but never in her heart. He'd been thinking about her so much, for months now, and with that big chain of memories back from fall of sophomore year it was finally starting to feel less like an obsession and more natural. He loved her and he knew it, his mind and heart starting to come back into sync. He needed to be around her.

He could stop worrying about remembering more at this point, just spend time with Rachel and enjoy it. Yes, remembering only pieces was disorienting, but the goal wasn't really to remember everything, it was to remember enough so that he could get his life back. His college courses were going well and he did remember and love Rachel, so maybe that was enough that they could go from there and rebuild the rest. Unlike where his block of memories ended, there wasn't anyone coming between them. And those memories were really complete; he had a lot to go on with, especially together with how well they'd connected before she left for New York. So he could concentrate on the future instead, hope the pieces kept coming in as similar things triggered them, and not worry about the rest.

But this idea was really unsatisfying. The complete part of his memories was still very old, leaving a large gap that held only pieces. The disconnection was uncomfortable, and while he was in love with Rachel it was still way too new, undeveloped. Not like the man who held her hand in the prom picture, knowing she was the center of his world. Not like 'we helped each other figure life out', as Rachel had put it.

Plus he couldn't count on Rachel being on board for it either. Now that he remembered her from when they'd first met, he knew she was pretty unstoppable when she wanted something. She'd backed off a lot to give him space after the accident, and she'd apparently softened over the years, but she wasn't that different. She had come through massively for him with that song, she must have known how significant it had been for them, and he was sure she'd try more. Which could be good or bad, depending on whether it brought things back or instead muddied up his mental associations. They could sing numbers again together, they could even try that duet, but he'd probably just go ahead and kiss her whether he remembered or not, God knows he wanted to.

Or... Finn checked the calendar, making up his mind as he looked at it. It was the only option he truly wanted. Eighteen days before Rachel came home; he needed to remember all he could before then.

He knew he'd never triggered anything deliberately before, it had always been done for him. But he had a good handle by this point on how it worked, it was getting a lot easier to remember things, and he could at least try it himself. And trying something without Rachel would always leave open the option to try it with Rachel later, that had to be different enough to keep the association clean. As for how... do it like they did it with Sectionals, repeat something, get in the moment, and trust what his mind felt should be next.

_You want your memories back, Hudson? Go get them._

His decision made, Finn felt his heart ease, and he slept.

* * *

As Finn woke up the next morning, he started wondering about how he should get more back, what things he could trigger that might help him the most in updating his memories, especially memories of Rachel.

Rachel... Rachel had shown him a way, he realized. The memory she'd chosen to give him had been a significant one, a key to the rest of that time. Everything before it that led to him joining Glee Club, choosing to stay part of it, putting together that song that convinced Mr. Schue to stay, all that was part of it. And it had connected Rachel and him, leading to the next few weeks, and probably so much more except that Quinn's pregnancy had disrupted everything. So he needed something like that, something that a lot of other things would have led up to, and that would have been a foundation for everything that happened later.

Like... Finn smirked. Okay, nineteen and male, of course there was something he _really_ wanted to remember. But it was more than that. He'd had that fragment haunting him for months now, if that was an actual memory then it wanted to come back. And that kiss, in the hall after Sectionals... yes he'd felt on top of the world, winning, and Rachel had been massively adoring, but there was more to it, something deeper and extra intimate about the way they'd touched and kissed. It felt like they'd become lovers by then and it had made them more closely connected. The feel of her hands on his chest, her lips on his, even little touches, all heightened because they made something resonate in him. He wanted that. Even if it didn't bring any other memories back with it, he wanted to get to that state of their relationship, bring himself more in step with his impulses and with what Rachel remembered.

And he'd like to think it would be connected to a lot more, that they'd made it significant and special, something that showed what their relationship had become and that they'd built on later. It certainly did seem to have made a difference in how they were together.

Also, if there was any memory that he really wouldn't be able to get back by repeating it, it was that. Even leaving aside that he still didn't want to take advantage of Rachel, there's no way he'd trade in reality for a memory when it came to _that_. So if he was going to get that memory, he needed to get it now.

Or maybe he just really wanted to remember having sex with his girl, because it seemed to have rocked, and then maybe he'd get to do it again once she was back. _Whatever. It's still a good idea, it's __significant and special and unique. But how can I get into it?_

He needed to know when, and where, and what happened before it. But how could he find that out?

Ask Rachel? Finn dismissed that quickly. He couldn't talk to her about how they were together, it would just make him feel more frustrated. She'd have a hard time with it too, both thinking about it and having her hopes raised. Besides, it was important that the memory come back for real, not from being told.

Kurt? Chances are his stepbrother might know what he'd been up to, at least whether he'd snuck out for a long time or whether he'd had Rachel over. Brothers cover for each other. But he wasn't that comfortable with Kurt yet, and Kurt had been quite clear that he'd done his best to not think about what his brother and best friend were doing together.

That left talking to Puck about it. While Finn hoped that he hadn't been the type of guy to brag about sleeping with his girlfriend, especially to someone as sex-obsessed as every version of Puck he'd known, maybe he'd been the kind of guy who let things slip, and Puck might have known what he was up to if he'd planned something special.

The next night Puck came over to play Call of Duty – Finn was getting pretty good, even though the game had become a lot more involved in the time he couldn't remember – so, after a game ended with them being blown to smithereens, he took the opportunity.

"Puck... can I talk to you about something?" Finn opened tentatively.

"Yeah sure, dude."

"It's about Rachel. Me and Rachel I mean."

"Yeah, I figured."

Finn rolled his eyes, then took a deep breath. "We... were _active_, weren't we? I mean, we..." he trailed off.

"_Active?_" Puck snickered. "You mean in the sack, right? Yeah, you were active. Very."

"So, I... told you about it?" Finn asked hesitatingly, a little disbelieving.

"You haven't had your balls cut off, right? Then no," Puck replied. "But even a pussy-whipped one-chick dude like you doesn't propose in high school without getting some serious action. Besides, your PDA was out of control any time there wasn't a teacher or parent to stop you, and Schue didn't stop you much so you were all over each other in the choir room. Worst-kept secret in the school, that you two were having a great time whenever you could sneak away. Ben Israel didn't even bother blogging rumors about it, and that wasn't just a case of denial over Rachel."

_Ben Israel? Oh yeah, the nosy kid with the fuzzy hair,_ Finn thought. He could remember seeing that kid lurking around, following... _Rachel_, he realized. _That was Rachel._ He remembered seeing her frown at the kid harassing her, then turn to present a bright smile to the world as she walked down the hall. _I did notice her, even before I joined Glee. Huh._

"Dude?" Puck broke into his thoughts. "You zoning out on me, or is this starting to ring a bell?"

"Uh, not yet," Finn said. "I just remember the kid is all. From before."

"Right. Yeah, the little gossipy twerp's had it bad for her for years. Thinks it's destiny because of their names, or something. Helluva choice she had when it came to making friends her own age at Temple – me and him, not many other options. Figures she'd keep her legs closed until she found a nice Gentile boy like you."

"Hey, watch it." Finn found Puck's tone and words aggravating. "That's my girl you're talking about."

"Is she?"

"Yes." Finn frowned at his friend. "A lot's missing, but I remember enough for _that._"

"Yeah, okay," Puck said, as apologetically as he could muster. "Anyway, yeah, you two were on, everyone knew that. We could tell both of you were having a good time, even before she defended your prowess to Santana in front of the rest of us."

"She _what?_"

"Well you know about what happened with you and Santana, right? Santana said she ran into you and you already knew." Puck caught Finn's nod. "Well Santana liked to comment on it, talk about what a bad lay you were, just to rile Berry up really. One time your girl was so not in the mood and let fly. I won't tell you what she said, that's worth remembering for yourself someday, but let's just say that Santana found a different topic for future insults. And the rest of us expanded our vocabulary."

"Wow."

"Well, hey, you know Berry." Puck grimaced at his own choice of words. "You know what I mean."

"She's... intense," Finn said, admitting what Puck probably meant. Rachel pissed off wasn't something to mess with, though she had been really hot when she'd been angry with him. Of course she'd also been really hot at times when she hadn't been angry with him, _those kisses... _"Passionate," he finished softly.

Puck tried to hide a smile, and shook his head at his friend. "You are in so deep," he commented.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Just that you're so hung up on trying to remember being in love with her _before_ that you're ignoring the fact that you're in love with her _now_."

Finn winced. "I'm not," he protested.

"Sure you are. I've seen it before –"

"I mean I'm not _ignoring it_," Finn interrupted. "I know how I feel."

"Oh."

"It's just not enough. It's too... new, I guess. It's not like it should be, I mean I felt so much for her I _asked her to marry me_."

"Which was crazy."

"Maybe. But however I was, I'm not like that now. And that's huge, once in a lifetime if you're lucky, and we got that lucky. And then I got really unlucky." His voice lowered. "Even if it's totally crazy, I want to be that lucky again."

Puck rolled his eyes. "Bet it helps to know that the two of you were really hot for each other."

The corner of Finn's mouth quirked up. "It doesn't hurt."

Puck snorted. "Anyway. Yeah, Berry doesn't do things halfway. Especially not you."

"Do you know... when? I mean, when we started, uh, doing it?"

"Good thing we could tell you were 'cause you sure can't use the words," Puck sniped. "You didn't report back or anything, but yeah, I know when. Why so interested, anyway? You've been very clear about wanting to remember stuff like that instead of being told."

"Just – what you did, tricking me into remembering the songs we sang, the performances, it gave me an idea," Finn explained. "If I could just lead up to it, find out what happened before it, maybe my mind will just flow into it, like it did with the other stuff, like Sectionals. Bring it back."

"Hmm. Might be worth a try," Puck said. "'Cause yeah, that'd be a key time to bring back. But why now? She'll be back in a couple of weeks, she'd know all about it."

"And what, recreate the start of it and hope I remember?"

Puck shrugged. "Well, yeah. Worked great for the other stuff."

Finn rolled his eyes. "We get something like that started and I'll keep going whether I remember anything or not. Can't count on her being willing to stop either. And I do want to remember it." He frowned. "Besides, the shrink has a theory about how I'm remembering that makes sense, that when something matches enough but still has something missing I fill in the missing stuff from memory."

"Makes sense, I guess."

"Yeah. Problem is, that means it's easier to remember Rachel when she's not here."

"And she'll be back in a couple of weeks." Puck groaned. "Shit."

"Yep." Finn exhaled. "So I want to give this a shot first. I figure it should have been special, so maybe I'll get more with it or even if not at least I'll get that."

"And then you can repeat it all you want later," Puck leered.

"Still talking about my girl."

"Still talking about the couple that used to make out in the choir room in front of everyone. Just because you don't remember it doesn't mean you can act all shy about it. Hell, there was a write-in campaign to have you listed as 'Most Likely to Get Arrested for Excessive PDA' in the Grad Class Awards."

Finn snorted. "What happened?"

"I couldn't scare up enough votes." Puck admitted. He gave a smirk. "It was close, though. Not that I cared, you're just both really fun to bug, you're so damn sincere."

"_Anyway..._" Finn tried to get the conversation back on track.

"Uh, yeah. So you want to know when you closed the deal and juiced the Berry, huh?"

Finn gritted his teeth to stop the protest he wanted to make against Puck's continued crudeness. He needed this information, and clearly Puck was just trying to wind him up. "_Yes._"

"Right." Puck paused. "So, it was a Friday, opening night of _West Side Story_."

"Um, what?" Finn was getting whiplash from Puck's sudden switch from riding him to providing information, and also didn't know what he was talking about.

"Oh, you haven't gotten anything about that yet? Fall musical, didn't get cancelled for once. Most of us were in it. Not Mercedes, she walked when she didn't get her way, and not you, you were too busy at the tire shop and trying to get your grades up, but the rest of Glee club was in it. And most of the rest of the football team, 'cause Coach Beiste was co-directing and made them. I say 'them' because I had a real part. So did Mike, but I got to kill him."

"Okay."

"Anyway, there are bootleg DVDs around if you want to watch them. You probably even have one somewhere in your mess here, and if you don't Kurt would, unless he took it with him to stare at his boyfriend. Or I can get you a copy. Leads were Rachel, of course, and Blaine."

"How do you know that was the night?"

"Because I saw Rachel the next night, that's why. Girl walks backstage before the show and she's on top of the world, even more than she had been after killing it opening night, and she loves performing. And later I saw her at the makeup mirror, and she's giving herself that look girls give themselves, the 'do I look any different, I feel different' look. I notice stuff like that, I've seen it a few times before. So sometime between that and the end of the previous night's show, the two of you closed the deal. I'd say the night before since she didn't look tired. Girl was shining, you must've really rocked her world."

"Huh." Finn thought a bit, trying not to be curious as to why his friend had noticed his girl so much. _Probably just nosy about sex_, he told himself, _it's Puck._ "So what was I doing that night, since I wasn't in the show?"

"You came to the show, of course," Puck said. "Your girl's the lead, dude, you go. You skipped the after-party, though – Rachel had the flowers you left for her but was upset that she hadn't seen you after the show. She left kinda early, so..." he let it hang suggestively.

"Right." Finn absorbed the information. "What was going on earlier? It was a Friday, you said."

"Yes, and that means football. Crappiest timing I can think of, don't know why it was that way since Coach was involved in both and making most of the team be as well, but first we played a game, in front of a big-deal scout from Ohio State no less, and then had to go do the show. We were fit going in but still dragging by the time we hit the after-party, even those of us that were killed off early."

"That – that's great, dude. There's a lot there. Thanks. I mean, I've always loved football, guess it didn't work out, but playing for a scout, that was a big deal for me, right?"

"Well, yeah," Puck replied. "You'd heard a rumor that they needed a new quarterback and were all keyed up. You played well, we won. I didn't stick around in the locker room after, had to get ready for the show, but you did. I don't know what went down. You didn't mention it afterwards, and Shane was going around bragging about the full ride he was being offered, so you can probably fill in the blanks as well as I can."

"Yeah." Finn tried to think about it, but found nothing. "Or I could talk to the scout. Coach Bieste would know how to get in touch with him, right?"

Puck started to laugh. "Yeah, you could say that," he spluttered. "Seeing as they got married over Christmas break. Most of us figured he wasn't really scouting any of us."

Finn grinned. "Thanks, dude. Really, thanks, for this and everything else. It's tough, it's like there's a door in my head, and I know all I have to do is open it, but I can't even find the handle let alone the key. I don't know what I'd've done without you, everything you've helped me with, all that music stuff especially."

"Hey, don't get mushy on me," Puck joked, then sobered. "Look, I haven't always been the best friend, okay? Hell, the time you went back to – I'd already knocked up your girlfriend, we just didn't know it yet. But I really did love Quinn, and you didn't, though I wasn't sure at the time so it's no excuse." He brushed his mohawk back and exhaled. "I don't know what I'm saying here. Just – even with all of that crap we patched things up, you and me. And you're our _leader_. Not just the quarterback, not just Glee co-captain, you're the reason the rest of us got involved with Glee and stopped being assholes, mostly. Me anyway. Some of the girls too, like Santana. You made yourself better and you made us better along with you, and it just _sucks_ that you lost so much of that. Sucks for you, and also kinda sucks for everyone else too." Puck frowned and rolled his eyes. "And enough of that, let's you and me blow away some dirtbags." He reached for his controller and restarted the game.

* * *

The next day Carole found Finn looking through a stack of DVDs in the living room. "What are you looking for, Finn?" she asked.

"Do we have a copy of _West Side Story_? The one from McKinley. Puck said there were copies floating around."

"Of course we do," Carole said. She went to the corner cabinet and scanned the top set. "Here," she said, passing it to Finn. "You know Rachel's in that, right?"

"Uh, yeah," Finn replied. "I'm trying to find more memory triggers. This is from opening night?"

"Yes. That's the one you went to, if that helps."

"It might. Did you go?"

"Yes, Burt and I went that night, after your game. We left right after the show, though, we had to get to Toledo for a campaign event the next morning."

"Oh." _Parents away – I think 'where' is answered._

* * *

The next morning as he awoke, Finn tried to look into that fragment a bit more, the one of Rachel in the pink sundress; he'd been wondering all along if it was from that time. But he didn't want to push it, and couldn't seem to extend it, all he could see was Rachel in that dress, her skin warm in the light... _light. What light? It's flickering, like – firelight._ Finn smiled. _Firelight. Except –_ He groaned. _I don't know if this is real._ If he tried to reinforce something he'd confabulated, it'd just get worse. Was it a memory, or a fantasy?

For a moment Finn gave up the whole idea, it was just too dangerous. He could screw up the memory he most wanted to get if he did this wrong. But he caught himself.

_Don't chicken out now,_ he told himself. _I need to do this. And this piece is really persistent, it's been trying to come back for ages._ He was so tired of fighting himself, that made it easy to think about giving up, but if he could just get this – it might put him over the top. He heard Rachel's voice in his mind: _'I believe in you, Finn, I always have and I always will.'_ He could do this. He needed to, for her, for himself, for _them_. He could give up fighting when he'd won.

* * *

Finn next went to talk to Coach Beiste, who was enthusiastic about helping once he explained that he was trying to trigger some memories by recreating what he thought and how he felt that day.

"Come to the field at school early Sunday evening, I'll get some of the boys to run plays with you," she said. "I think I remember that game well enough, we can't play it out but we should be able to get you to feel the same." She was enthusiastic about helping him, which he guessed made sense, she'd been his coach for two years and had probably wanted to help before but hadn't seen how.

On Sunday she was even more into it. He geared up, she had him run some wind sprints (_not used to this any more_) and then most of the current team came out for a scrimmage. Her husband the scout was there, looking professional, making comments beforehand about how their current prospect wasn't working out and maybe they should reconsider him or could give a referral. And he played well, despite being rusty, made some good plays, sure he got knocked down a couple of times (done deliberately by the defence) but always after he'd got the ball off. All so he was physically, mentally, and emotionally exhausted when the scout sat him down in the locker room, made him wait for half an hour, and then told him how great Shane was doing. Then Finn was given the scout's classic line:

"Just 'cause your football career ends in high school, it doesn't mean your life does."

Finn felt like crap. He was probably supposed to, but he tried not to be pleased about it since that would ruin the effect. And he was good at running those plays and leading the guys, even now out of practice and with his memory full of holes, so how come he didn't measure up? Did he suck then too but he didn't remember it? He'd put a lot of effort into football, and apparently this was all that came of it. _Why does Rachel even want me when I'm such a loser, even when I could remember it all?_

He showered, tired and frustrated, and then headed home and put on _West Side Story. _And he was amazed. Sure, the sets were basically skeletons, but the piece itself was incredible. He saw all those people, his friends, some he'd met 'again' only recently and some he'd known for years, and they were great. Puck acting. Santana, commanding attention as she sang and danced. Mike singing. Blaine moving like a cat. Kurt coming on in his small part but stealing the show for every second of it. And Rachel. She was a star, shining brightly, and he couldn't take his eyes off her. She'd blown him away with her solo in Fiddler on the Roof, and when she'd sung 'Don't Rain', but even that hadn't prepared him for her luminous performance as Maria.

_How the hell did I get a girl like her_, he thought. _And after how much I jerked her around, too. She's amazing, her voice, her presence... and I'm nothing, look at all the others, so much better than me, I'm just a kid who thought he was somebody because a crappy high school sports team couldn't find anyone better. She's a star, and I'm... tall._

Finn lit the fire before he stretched out on the couch to watch the second act. Puck had killed Mike and had been in turn taken out by Blaine. So Santana was pissed over Puck's death, but Rachel, who he realized was playing Puck's sister, still loved Blaine no matter what.

_No matter what,_ Finn thought, as he watched Rachel answer back to Santana, singing about the strength of her love, right or wrong, as she gazed out to the back corner of the audience. _She's transformed_, Finn thought. Her voice and demeanor alone was affecting him, and when he heard her sing those words: "I love him, I'm his, and all that he is, I am too," he knew without a doubt where she was looking, who was there, and why she conveyed such truth. "We are one," she sang, and he _felt_ it. Felt inside what his body and subconscious had known that day in Rachel's room when he'd kissed her and almost done a lot more, what had been building when they'd spent time together before she left for New York, and what had been resonating in his memories, of when they'd first connected and kissed, of New York, of Sectionals and especially that kiss afterwards. He wanted her and loved her, sure, but this was so much more. Deeper, profound.

_She's so incredible,_ Finn thought, his mind reeling in his exhausted haze. _Beautiful, talented, passionate, so expressive, and that voice. And she's singing about __**me**__, to __**me**__. How did that happen? What does she even still see in me, now that high school is over? I may have thought I was somebody there but it's clear I'm nothing special._ He closed his eyes.

The show played on, but Finn dozed on the couch, the fire still blazing away in the fireplace. He slid in and out of consciousness, slipping between dreams and semi-wakefulness like a stone skipping across water. He heard a voice, Rachel's voice:_ 'You're special. You know how I know that?'_ He saw her lying beneath him, her hair fanned out over pillows and a plaid quilt, her eyes full of trust, love, and desire. And he felt amazing, that this incredible shining girl wanted him and gave herself to him, that he could touch her and be with her, sharing a moment of pure bliss. Feeling so intimately connected, so _one_.

Finally, he slept.

In the early morning Finn awoke feeling groggy and stiff, wondering where he was. The couch was long enough but it still wasn't very comfortable, and his muscles were sore. _Must've been watching something_, he thought through his early-morning mental fog. He checked the case on the table. _West Side Story. Guess I just wanted to see Rachel again. God, I miss her. Wish I could just hold her, it's been so long. _

_Way too long, why didn't I go with her, wasn't I supposed to...? _Finn sat up suddenly, shocked to wakefulness by the answer his brain supplied: he was stuck behind in Lima because his recent memory had been shot to bits and he hadn't remembered Rachel. And she was lonely in New York, crying out for him in the bed they should have shared.

_**What?**_

_**Fuck.**_

_**How the hell is that even possible?**_

Finn put his head in his hands and started trying to make sense of what his memories told him, that he'd forgotten Rachel _- how could I ever forget Rachel, she's everything -_ but he was still too tired. _Just be_, he told himself, relaxing his mind the way he'd learned. He dozed off once more, his last thought being that he'd better still remember all this when he woke up again.

* * *

_please review! I'm very interested in knowing your reaction to this one, it's been a long time coming._


	34. hold the flame 'til the dream ignites

_A/N: Wow. To say that I'm blown away by the response to the last chapter would be putting it mildly. Thank you so much for all your reviews! I did a little clarifying based on early feedback, thanks to Amybf19 in particular for helping with that. I hope after all this waiting that the resolution lives up to the rest of it._

* * *

Around eight a.m., Carole came in from her night shift at the hospital. Things had been quiet, just normal duties, which unfortunately had left her with some spare time to worry about Finn. It was great that more of his memories had come back, but she knew he was frustrated by how patchwork the pieces were and by what was still missing, especially when it came to Rachel. The last week especially, he hadn't wanted to talk about it in detail with her but he'd been so happy at his latest regained memories and then depressed after his psych appointment, worrying about how he could go further. She knew it was all taking a big toll on Finn. He'd even been down when she'd started talking about Christmas, which had her very worried; Finn had always loved Christmas, and until this last week he'd been anxious for it because Rachel would be home. She didn't know what had changed but she hoped that when Rachel arrived they'd be able to put things back together.

As she passed by the living room she was surprised to see her son stretched out on the couch asleep, still in a t-shirt and jeans. The room was chilly, the fireplace's gas timer having turned itself off long before. _He must be cold_, she thought, pulling a blanket off the back of the neighboring chair. She looked down at his face, seeing his eyes flicker underneath his eyelids as he dreamed. Finn was clenching the cushion tightly, and she laid the blanket as much over him as she could. As she tucked it around his shoulders she heard him make a small unidentifiable noise that drew her attention. She paused, listening.

"Rach, baby," Finn mumbled softly in his sleep, pulling the cushion even closer to him. "I miss you so much, Rachel. I love you."

Carole inhaled sharply, then held her breath to avoid making a noise that could wake her sleeping son. This was unexpected. She'd never known Finn to talk in his sleep before, even as a child, not unless he was fevered. But he otherwise seemed to be sleeping normally; whatever he was dreaming now must be coming through unusually strongly. Also, Finn's feelings for Rachel had been returning along with his memories, well in advance of them really, but as far as she knew they were still quite tentative, especially in how he expressed them. The way he was talking to her now sounded much stronger, heartfelt, more like last spring than last week. Of course he was dreaming, and his subconscious likely remembered Rachel much more, but to dream of her so strongly and call for her like that was much more promising than anything she knew of before. Carole was torn: would Finn be more or less likely to remember his dream if she woke him now? Ultimately she decided to let things happen naturally, and settled into a chair to watch over him until he woke.

Half an hour later the sunlight warmed up the room, and Finn started to stir, sensing that he wasn't alone. "Rach?" Finn called out groggily.

Carole exhaled. "No, it's me honey," she said quietly.

"Mom." Finn blinked. "Right."

"You were asking for Rachel, though," she said tentatively. "In your sleep."

Finn sat up and rubbed his hand over his face and through his hair. "Yeah. I really miss her." He half-closed his eyes again, thinking, then looked over at his mother. "But I don't talk in my sleep. I've had enough sleepovers with Puck to know that, he'd've never let me live it down if I did."

"Maybe you just never had anything important enough to say before."

"Huh." Finn screwed up his face in concentration. "But I remember calling for her," he mumbled, barely audible. "Maybe I wasn't really asleep, not all the way." Carole waited, since Finn had his 'trying to make sense of something' face. "Mom," he asked after a while, "do we have a blue-and white plaid quilt somewhere?"

"There's one like that, we've had it for years," Carole replied, unsure as to where this was going but intrigued. "We haven't used it in quite a while though. It might be in your closet, I think I saw it there back in July."

Finn stood up. "I need to see it. Can you show me where you think you saw it? Please?" His mother followed him up to his room, where he opened the closet doors and started digging through his stuff.

"Over on the left, at the back," his mom said. "At least that's where I remember seeing it. I was just getting a few of your clothes to take to you in hospital," she explained apologetically. "I don't go through your things normally."

"That's okay, Mom," Finn said absently as he dug into the spot she'd suggested, then froze. "Hospital," he stated. "The accident." He waved his mom off, who was very concerned at this.

Two sets of memories warred in Finn's head – a long chain, near-unbroken, full of school and Glee and Rachel, and his memories from the last few months, when he hadn't known about the others. It didn't make sense, how he could remember something and yet also remember not remembering it. What was true? Did he really remember Rachel or not? He remembered not remembering her... but he also had memories of her now that weren't consistent with his more recent memories. Disjoint, disorienting.

Hospital. The accident. He'd forgotten, how that could be possible he didn't know, but he had. Last night... he'd been shocked by that too, he recalled. And now, was what he had now real? He'd seen Rachel in his mind, in that pink dress, coming to him, being with him, the two of them becoming as close as two people could. He desperately needed that to be real.

He returned to digging through his closet, and found what he was looking for: a blue-and-white plaid quilt, reversing to dark. He'd kept it. He inhaled sharply as he saw it, then pulled it out.

"It is important?" Carole asked cautiously.

"Yeah," Finn breathed, his jaw slack. He sank onto his knees and brought it close to his face, looking at it with a kind of wonder. He saw a thin line and touched it: a long brown hair still clung to the quilt. _Rachel._ He buried his face in the quilt, breathing in the scent he imagined it still had. It was real, what he remembered, that night, it had been real. And linked to it... so very much more.

"I guess you kept it for a reason, huh?"

"Yes," Finn choked out past the quilt. _Rachel. It's real, and all that's with it must be real too._ All those memories, rehearsals and performances and lazy summer days, arguments and breakups and longing and confusion, reconciliations and so very many kisses... everything that had brought them to that moment. All there in his mind, all real.

"And now you remember what that is."

"Yes." Finn nodded.

"Is that good?"

It's... yes, it's the best." He swallowed. "Mom?"

"Yes, honey?"

"I've had amnesia since July, right?" His memories from the last few months didn't fit with the others. He pushed them aside, still there but out of the way, to let the others take over.

"Ah... yes."

Finn nodded. "Just checking. It's really confusing. But Mom... I'm not sure I do anymore."

"Really?" came the gasp from his mom.

"Not much anyway, at least I don't think so. I have to get this all straight in my head though."

Carole stood by her son and put her hand on his shoulder. "Are you going to be okay, honey?" she asked.

Finn nodded repeatedly, then lifted his head from the quilt. "Yes. I will be now." There were tears in his eyes, but he smiled.

"Okay. I'll leave you then. Do you want breakfast?" she asked as Finn stood, still carrying the quilt.

"Maybe in an hour," he said, moving to the bed. "I have a lot to get straight right now." She nodded and left. Finn lay on the bed and clasped the folded quilt to him, with one thought in his mind: _Rachel._

He wanted her. He needed her. He loved her, missed her so much that he wanted to get the first plane to New York and show up at her door. Beg her forgiveness for ever having forgotten her. Take her in his arms and show her exactly what he remembered them doing under this quilt. This quilt that confirmed that those dreams weren't fantasies, but memories.

_Don't rush around as soon as you remember something,_ the instructions echoed in his head, breaking into his reverie. _Reinforce, expand._ He started running through that night again, from sitting alone at home moping about his lack of future, to Rachel showing up at his door, to his continued hurt at what she'd said before about losing her virginity to help her acting, how he'd felt their love cheapened by it. He heard her apologize and admit she'd been wrong. Insist how much she loved him. And he felt his heart swell at how much he loved and wanted this girl, how her voice and eyes and heart supported him and eased his self-doubt, how his nerves were on fire touching her. At how complete he'd felt in being with her, loving her, and lying spent with her in his arms. How she filled holes in him he'd never known existed, and in he felt he did in her too, in how she listened to him when she wouldn't to anyone else. Opened up to him, let herself be vulnerable and let him love her. How she helped him tap into who he really was. Like now.

He wanted to talk to her. Send her something to show he remembered. But... _Don't rush around._ He had to nail this down first. He had to be sure he was back before he got her hopes up or he'd just hurt her again by reversing for, what, the fourth time now? She'd be at school by this time, and he needed to see what else he remembered.

He held the quilt closer again, and thought about that night, of being with Rachel. Of kissing her. And thousands of kisses came to mind: that first kiss on the stage that he'd already remembered, when he'd exploded with how she'd made him feel; returning her kiss at bowling, when he knew he'd been manipulating her to come back to Glee for the sake of the kid he thought he was going to have, but it had still felt so real; kissing her outside school when they'd briefly been together, before he'd chickened out; her kissing him on the stairs before Regionals; the first kiss of them truly together, after they'd lost, and the hundreds more over that summer; even the kisses avoided, when they'd been broken up, because they'd each known they couldn't turn away from how they would feel if they did. And that one kiss they'd given up Nationals for, so powerful and passionate, it had led to a whole lot more. Some of their kisses had been really public, but why not? Kissing Rachel was awesome, she was as into it as he was, and he'd finally stopped caring what others thought about them being together. Plus once they'd become intimate even their kisses had gained something extra, and he'd had a lot more self-control.

Kissing Quinn had been like fireworks, before, it had been exciting at the time. Kissing Rachel felt like truth, like coming home, and like an ember blazing into an inferno, every nerve on fire just from a kiss. That kiss at Nationals, finally coming together after they'd both turned away from it – it had been like the universe had put itself on hold because nothing could break into that kiss. He remembered it fully now, the fragments fused in place like they'd never been broken apart. Coming home was also how it had felt when, God _yes_, she'd told him he was the love of her life and accepted his proposal and ring. He could see it now, feel it too, hear her voice join his in song, know that he'd won her over, that they could be forever. And even when not remembering and not knowing how he felt about her, he'd felt the power and truth that kissing Rachel always had for him. The taste of her lips, the touch of her skin, it all felt so right, like she was made for him. (He'd wondered about that once, how since he was older she would have been conceived about when his dad had died, or close to it, and he'd thought that maybe God or the universe had tried to help him out by making Rachel for him to find and love. Even now it was a cool idea.)

Finn's mind reeled from all he was finding in it now. Because everything in his life for the last three years, everything worthwhile, had been linked one way or another to thoughts of Rachel, she was never far from his mind. Somehow he'd opened that door, found his way into a significant memory that everything else was connected to, all those memories of her, but also of everything else too. Even stuff with his mom, and Kurt, and Quinn, everyone and everything else. He'd told Rachel before that nothing in his life made sense to him without her, but he hadn't realized how literally true this was. She was the key to open the door in his mind, worked into every link in the networks of his missing memories. And this was more than just pieces, even the pieces he'd had before were now fitting together, joined by his thoughts of Rachel. The transitions, the continuity he needed, it all came from his heart.

He needed to keep this, nail it all down, if he could – _if_, he'd better be able to – he could have everything.

He turned his head to look at her picture again, seeing his hand holding hers. And he remembered doing that, and yes he'd been feeling like she was the world's most precious thing, because she was. Though – Finn was puzzled. He remembered being happy that she'd agreed to marry him, even felt that giddy elation now at seeing his ring on her finger in the picture, but he didn't remember why he'd decided to go so fast, to ask her. He was glad he had, sure that ring had spooked him but it had also stopped him from walking away, but he must have made a decision. He snorted, shaking his head at himself – it had been the first memory he'd tried to get back, picking out the ring and proposing, and even with all the rest he still didn't have it. He must have done it, though, so that was still a hole. But the exception, not the rule, the rest of his memories stretching out smoothly instead of the separate pieces he'd had before.

He smelled bacon being cooked downstairs, and grinned. Yeah, Rachel had usually bought and cooked some for him when he'd stayed over. Back in June she'd found some in her fridge that her fathers had bought just before their last business trip, and she'd been so happy that it meant they really accepted him. She'd rationed it out over the week her dads had been gone, as they played house in preparation for the move to New York. That had been quite the week; aside from his Halo marathon late-night at Puck's (excused because of course he would go out with other friends sometimes in New York) they'd been really wrapped up in each other. And Rachel had insisted that she needed to learn how to keep quiet when they made love (New York apartment walls could be quite thin, she'd said, and they wouldn't want to wait for Kurt to be out) and that she needed to practice this. They'd each treated it as a bit of a challenge, hers to stay quiet, his to overcome that. He'd missed hearing her moan his name, especially since he normally used it as feedback, but the next week they'd snuck off to his room after a family dinner, with everyone else still downstairs, and proven just how wonderful being quiet could be. They'd done that at the barbeque too, right after the frisbee game, though while they couldn't have been overheard they knew disappearing for the better part of an hour (the _much_ better part) was a giveaway.

Wow. If the smell of bacon was bringing all this to his mind now, no wonder Rachel had been so emotional about it. She'd probably hardly ever smelled the stuff at other times. And when he'd pressed her on it, no wonder she'd wanted not to hear him use her nickname when it wasn't the endearment it was supposed to be.

And like that, gradually, his regained memories of before and his newer memories of not remembering them were resolving, each allowing for the other.

* * *

Finn took a quick shower and dressed, then went down to have breakfast. His mom looked up from the table and smiled at him.

"So how are you doing, kiddo?"

"I'm great," Finn answered, grinning. "Really great, Mom. Awesome. There's a little missing, but just the exception I think. The rest – it's like it's never been gone." He took the plate she'd set aside for him and joined her at the table. Remembering was hungry work.

"Huh."

"Except I also remember not remembering, and that's weird, but I think it's settling down."

"So you got all that from _West Side Story_?" She was happy, but puzzled.

"Uh..." Even after all this, Finn didn't want to talk about that night with his mom. Maybe now his memory was (mostly) back he could keep some stuff private again. "That was part of it. It's complicated."

She chuckled. "Nothing new about that."

Finn grinned. "Guess not." Except what he felt for Rachel – if he looked at it the right way, it was the simplest thing there was. He ate for a while, enjoying the bacon, letting it remind him of mornings with Rachel, how he was always touched by how she took care of him and what it meant about how she felt about him. Reinforcement was good, especially of memories like that. Which made him think about other things he could use to reinforce his returned memories. "Uh, Mom... that song Rachel sent, the one you put on my iPod." She would have had to be involved somehow, even just to get in the house to do it.

She smiled sheepishly, but nodded. "What about it?"

"Well that's what got me the first month back, so I was just wondering if there were any more." Rachel had sung to him at various key times over the years, he'd bet there were some of those. If nothing else he ached to hear more of her voice again.

"She sent me a few. The one you heard is the one she said should be first. Blaine helped me put it on, I was just waiting until he could come over and set up some of the others."

"I think I can handle them now. I'd like to hear them, please."

"Sure." She stood up and cleared her plate. "I'll get them for you."

Finn finished his breakfast, and in about ten minutes his mom came back with a flash drive, which she handed to him. "They're all on here," she said. "Five more songs."

* * *

Back at his computer, Finn looked down the listing of the five other songs that Rachel had recorded for him. He knew most of these: "Go Your Own Way", her own "Get It Right", she'd even done "Gives You Hell"... but then he saw one he didn't know, selected it, and closed his eyes to listen. Rachel's voice flowed like honey: thick, rich, sweet, warm. (*)

_I can't win, I can't reign  
I will never win this game without you  
Without you  
I am lost, I am vain  
I will never be the same without you  
Without you..._

And he knew, that question he'd been asking himself since he'd first started trying to remember, finally answered. Why he'd asked Rachel to marry him. He heard her sing and remembered that time, remembered watching her sing it in the choir room, everyone else fading away as if they were there alone.

She let him love her, let him in, see and know her in ways nobody else could, let him be the one thing she relied on aside from herself, the one that made her whole. And no matter how strange that sometimes seemed, that he could be that for her, he never wanted that to end. Being part of something special makes you special, she'd told him long ago, and she let him be part of her. No matter what else might happen to his life, even finding out that his lifelong idol, his dad, wasn't who he'd thought he was...

_Wait a minute. I didn't remember that before either._

_Shit._

But Finn heard Rachel's voice, supporting him, felt the memory of her arms around him loving him, and knew that he mattered more than just being his father's son. That he didn't have to rely on 'I have to make my father proud' like he used to, but he did need her.

And, like Kurt had taught them way back when he'd helped the football team to its first win: put a ring on it.

Okay, that was kind of crass, but the main idea was right. He knew he wouldn't be the same without her either, he didn't want to be without her, and with his future in doubt, it made sense to start with the one thing he couldn't live without. Take care of the most important first, like he'd neglected to do before.

He listened to the rest of her recordings as well, letting them reinforce those memories. They all felt surer, more stable. And he definitely enjoyed her solo from Nationals – he usually thought "It's All Coming Back to Me Now" was overwrought like just about everything else from Celine Dion, but having regained his own memory it had more meaning, and as when she'd performed it he had a irrepressible smirk at hearing his Rachel sing about 'nights of endless pleasure'. 'Cause yeah, he'd get on that. _When you touch me like this..._ Soon, he promised.

Now he went back to his playlists, the ones that had spooked him out so badly when he'd first found them on his iPod. All the 'Rachel' lists – he grinned. They weren't hers, they were his ones that he'd done up to listen to with her, especially the custom 'musicals' one. He'd had Kurt's help with that, they'd gone through a lot of songs from musicals and Finn had picked the ones he liked the most (or annoyed him the least) so he'd have a list that she would enjoy that he could also put up with. He'd left off the stuff he really didn't like, and she was happy enough with what was there that she never seemed to miss anything. He mostly liked stuff she would sing along to anyway, because he liked listening to her.

And that "Faithfully" recording of theirs – Finn remembered Regionals when they'd sung it, and making the recording to listen to themselves, but he was still scared to listen to it. He'd freaked out so badly when he'd heard it in hospital, and then later when he'd listened to it deliberately his freakout had been all he could remember. Plus nobody ever sounded the same in a recording as they did in their own head (except maybe Rachel, who had practiced so much that she'd probably adjusted how she thought she sounded to match). Still, he'd better give it a listen if he wanted to be sure he was really all right now. He lay back, took a few slow breaths to relax himself, and started the playback.

_Highway run..._

He heard himself, and his brain came up with the other thing that had been in his head during that performance: _I love you. _He smiled. Yes, he loved Rachel, loving her just as much as she loved him, so much that yes, the world was a better place just because she was in it whether she was his or not. He got that now. But having not understood it for a while, he also got why their parents had been so rattled about their engagement and how strongly the two of them felt about each other, and why his mom hadn't realized the damage she was doing in her 'family first' approach when he'd been released from the hospital. This wasn't just some high-school relationship that would inevitably die and you'd get over. This was everything.

Everything. He'd known that all year as he put the time into getting his test scores up, working hard on school, knowing she was headed to New York and needing to at least try to go too, especially once football had fallen through. Even if he didn't make it he didn't want regrets. And when the letter from CCNY had come, he'd called her over to his place so he could show it to her, and he'd swear she was prouder of him than she'd been of herself two weeks before when she'd gotten her NYADA acceptance.

She'd explained that to him as they lay entwined in their afterglow, skin on skin, feeling more one than ever now that their future together was becoming real.

_"I wouldn't have even dreamed of doing it without you," I tell her softly. "You taught me how to dream, I still don't know how you dream so big but I'm trying."_

_Rachel blushes, turning into my side. "You've taught me to dream too," she answers. "Even things I wouldn't have dared dream of before."_

_That doesn't make sense to me. "What, you wouldn't have dreamed of NYADA before? Broadway? You've always had that dream."_

_"Of course, but that's not what I meant," she says. She shifts to lie partly on top of me, and the way she looks into my eyes, her dark brown eyes so wide, it all makes me feel so warm and loved. "A big dream... that's relative to what you think you can do. Broadway seems like a big dream, and maybe it really is, but I'm... used to it. I've been getting prepared for it since I was a baby." I stroke her hair, and she sighs happily. "The really big dreams are the ones you hardly dare to have. If someone had told me, when I was ten or twelve or even fourteen, what my life was going to be like now, some of it I would have believed and some of it I wouldn't."_

_Like what, I wonder. "NYADA?"_

_"Being accepted into an elite musical theater program to groom me for Broadway stardom? Well I was quite full of myself, so I would definitely have believed that," Rachel admits. "But if someone had told me that I was going to find this wonderful boy, handsome and kind, with a lovely voice, a creative soul and a huge heart, and that he would know me and understand me, and love me anyway..." Her words that somehow mean me, her hand on my face, her body against mine, how did I get this lucky? "And that he would be here in Lima, right under my nose – or above it, most of the time," she giggles, "– I wouldn't have believed a word of it. Too impossible to even consider dreaming about. Like Christmas, you gave me what I hadn't realized I really wanted. I would never have dared dream that you existed until I met you, and even then it seemed too farfetched to happen. And yet here you are." She gives me a light kiss, and I'm just so blown away by all she's said, that I can be that for her, so special, and that she loves me so much, that I let myself go, kissing her back hungrily, wrapping my arms around her and rolling us over, caressing her body to show her my appreciation until she moans._

_I feel her wrap around me. I prepare, pausing to whisper in her ear. "I love you Rachel."_

_I hear her answer "I love you, Finn," feel her hands stroke down my back and clutch me to her as our bodies fuse again._

Oh, how he needed her and missed her, missed that closeness they'd had. But Rachel had been missing that for five months, just when she was getting everything he'd been taken from her. He burned to see her, regain that last piece of his life and give her back what was missing from hers. He wasn't sure how best to approach it, though.

Finn checked the time. It was late morning now, and she'd be in class. He needed to be in his that afternoon, too, Psych was at one-thirty and it was getting close to the end of the course. At least he could find out when and how it would be best to get in touch with her, he didn't want to alarm her with a missed call or anything like that.

Finn took out his wallet, dug out her father's business card, and dialed. He should update him anyway, after all, and he didn't want to have to wait until tonight to get things moving. "Um, I'd like to make an appointment to see Hiram Berry, please," Finn said when the receptionist answered. "It's Finn Hudson."

"Just a moment, I'll check his schedule." She came back to him in a few moments. "He's quite busy for the next few days, Mr. Hudson. Is this urgent?"

"No, but I want to update him on my situation. It shouldn't take very long."

"Well he might have a bit of time mid-afternoon today. I'll check."

A minute or so later Finn heard a small click as his call was forwarded.

"Finn, glad you called," Hiram said. "How are things going with you?"

"Really well," Finn said. "That's what I want to talk to you about, actually."

"That's great, Finn. I can squeeze you in at 3:15 today for about half an hour, if you don't mind sitting in on my coffee break."

"You don't need to give that up for me –"

"Nonsense, I'll face the rest of the day's work more clearly once we've had a chance to talk. I'm glad to hear you're doing well. So I'll see you at 3:15, all right?"

"Yes sir," Finn said, smiling. _Okay then. Time to get things moving._

* * *

_* "Without You", written by Taio Cruz, Usher Raymond IV, Rico Love, David Guetta, Giorgio Tuinfort, Frédéric Riesterer._

* * *

_please review!  
_


	35. burns with a restless flame

At ten past three Finn arrived at Hiram Berry's law office, and after a small wait he was shown in.

"Finn, it's good to see you, " Hiram said, rising as Finn came in. "You look well."

"I am, sir. Hiram. Very well." Finn grinned. "Great, actually."

The older man looked at him. "You're remembering," he said, returning Finn's smile. "You feel... like you."

"Yes," Finn nodded. "It's just since this morning, and I can't be sure it's all there, but, yes. We don't have to worry about the long-term any more. Or we shouldn't, anyway."

"Have you discussed this with your psychiatrist?"

"Not yet, my next appointment's on Wednesday. But I don't have any obvious gaps, it's more stable every time I think about it, and I definitely know how I feel." Finn took a deep breath. "This is the point where I tell you that I'm in love with your daughter," he said. "I always have been, even when I couldn't remember her that was still there, deep down."

Hiram looked carefully at Finn. "It would have been," he said. "But now what? We can certainly step the case up now, once your psychiatrist signs off on your condition we'll know the limits of the liability and can proceed with the main part of the suit. But what about Rachel?"

"I just – I want to go see her. Talk to her. I guess maybe I should wait a little, make sure everything's coming back right, but I love her and I can't stop thinking about her. None of the other memories have gone away again, I should be okay. And she needs me, Kurt told me, he told me she wakes up in the middle of the night calling out for me and I'm not there. I can be there now. I want to be there. I'm just trying to figure out how to approach her."

Hiram frowned. "The timing isn't good, Finn, she's extremely busy. And you have things to do here too. Your courses –"

"Two courses at Lima Community College," Finn scoffed. "I don't care about them, they're not worth another night of her crying over me." He looked at the picture on Hiram's desk, tears springing to his eyes as he looked into Rachel's. _Hold on, Rach,_ he thought. _It's almost over._ "It's over, she doesn't have to do that any more."

"She is coping, though. She's looking forward to being back and seeing you again, but she's managing well right now. Getting through her work, getting ready for the show. If she hears from you now, it could endanger all that."

"She'd have a harder time hearing from me that I'm better than not? Really?" Finn didn't like the reaction he was getting, especially since it was still a little difficult to trust that Rachel's dads wouldn't take advantage of the situation to keep them apart. He knew they'd only reluctantly come around to how close he and Rachel were, thinking Rachel far too young and concerned about the plans they'd always had for her. Finn tried to control himself, but it was difficult. He took a deep breath. "Are you sure there isn't a conflict of interest here?" Maybe he should have waited and talked to them both at home after all.

Hiram frowned. "We're not talking about your legal situation right now, Finn. And I know you wouldn't want to work against Rachel's interests and well-being."

"Not Rachel's. Yours. Or what you may think hers are." Finn swallowed, bringing himself under better control. "I know you weren't originally a big fan of us getting engaged." He met Hiram's eyes, just looking into them.

"Oh." Hiram looked back at him. "No, neither of us were, and truthfully we do still think it was likely a mistake on your part to ask her to make a commitment like that so young, or make it yourself." Finn's frown deepened at hearing this. "But you did, and she said yes, and it's not the sort of thing that can be walked back without making things considerably worse. If nothing else, your situation has made it extremely clear how much losing you would hurt Rachel. She loves you, she wants you as part of her life, and she's always held on very tightly to what she loves. Even before all this you were set to make the best of it, and we'd decided to support you in the hopes that it would turn out not to be a mistake after all. We're not changing that, we want everything to go well for both of you. And we certainly have additional respect for you knowing all the effort you've put into your recovery. We know a lot of that has been for her sake."

Finn nodded at this, easing. But if Hiram and LeRoy supported his relationship with Rachel, he didn't understand Hiram's objection now. "So what's the problem, then? Why do you think it would hurt her to hear from me now?" Finn became concerned. "Is something wrong with her?"

"No, nothing's wrong," Hiram reassured Finn. "Aside from missing you. But as I said, she's been coping. It's not the way she would prefer things to be, but it is currently_ a_ way, and there's so much going on right now. She would have to switch modes if she heard from you, your return would be one of the biggest distractions she could possibly have. It would break into how she's managing things, her routine."

"Oh." Finn paused. "I guess it would." He did understand that, a little. He'd had difficulty in his psych class earlier that afternoon, he just hadn't been able to concentrate. Some of that was dealing with his returned memories, he certainly didn't feel like the same person he'd been in the previous class, and he'd lost continuity with his mental state from last week. But some of it was being distracted by thoughts of Rachel. Memories, actually, since he'd always had the thoughts. But the change in his life was definitely a distraction, and he'd already wondered how it might affect his finishing the course. Rachel wouldn't have as much to deal with mentally, but she was also working a lot harder, almost constantly from what Kurt had said. "Too close to the end of term, huh?"

"I think so. She barely has a chance to talk to us these days, just a short call when she takes a break is all she can manage." Hiram snorted. "It's funny, in a way. LeRoy and I were worried that she was overworking herself, burying herself in her work to alleviate the loneliness of not having you there, and now that same intensity is what prevents it from being corrected. But it's very close to the end of term, there isn't time for her to adjust to a new situation."

Finn nodded reluctantly. "I get that, I know how she is." Rachel was currently going full steam ahead, and breaking into that rarely produced good results for anybody, especially her.

"Look, Finn, I'll talk things over with LeRoy, and you should come over sometime too, so we can all talk together. If there's a problem, of course we'll let you know. You should know we're not going anywhere over the holidays this year; we usually go to my brother's for the end of Hanukkah, but Rachel's refused to go, so we're staying here instead."

Finn smiled. "She won't go?" He was very happy to hear this, that she'd insisted on staying.

"Completely refused. She brought it up on the way to New York, actually. It's different now that she's moved away, it makes sense to let her settle in and stay at home for the limited time she's here, but that's not really why. It hurt her so much to leave you, she'd just be miserable if we made her go."

"Not that you can." Not that they should anyway, but Rachel would be eighteen in eight days, legally adult.

"True."

"And we need the time together. My memory's back, and I love her, but we can't pretend it never happened." Finn smiled tightly. "Plus I miss her so much that I'd probably just follow you anyway." But he frowned again. "I don't know, it still seems wrong," he said. "You and I deciding what she does and doesn't need to know, supposedly for her own good. Kind of – paternalistic, is that the word?" He saw Hiram nod, frowning slightly. "Rachel's always known what she wanted."

"It's your information. And you decided before not to tell her the details of how you were doing until she came home, so she's not expecting to hear from you."

_Burned by my own best intentions. Nothing new about that I guess._ But Finn still protested. "That was so she wouldn't be disappointed if I remembered less than she hoped I would," he said. "No chance of that now." He exhaled. "But I get it, and I wouldn't want to throw her off. It's just eleven days, I can wait."

Hiram smiled. "Good. Thank you."

"Hey, you know I'd never want to hurt Rachel. But if she's getting upset, worried about me, then that could wreck things too. I'd need to tell her then."

Hiram agreed that they'd try not to let that happen, and they made plans for Finn to come over for dinner on Friday.

* * *

_But how is Rachel doing?_ Finn sighed to himself once he'd returned home. It tore at him that he couldn't be there for her. Maybe he should go anyway, screw his courses and what her dad said. Or talk to her, or something. But no, he felt like he needed to see her. Remembering was one thing, but he still didn't quite have continuity between then and now; the real test was how he would feel when she was there with him, when he could take her into his arms again. He briefly fantasized about arriving in New York late, going to the apartment and sliding into bed next to her, ready to answer the next time she called out for him. Maybe she'd wake up in his arms and write the whole mess off as just a incredibly bad dream. Or she'd think she was dreaming he was there. _Damn._

_I should talk to Kurt, he'd know how she is._ But that needed to be covert, and from what Kurt had said, Finn knew Kurt wasn't usually that far away from Rachel unless she was rehearsing. _Thank God for __Kurt, I owe you so much, bro. _He pulled his phone out and started to write a text. _need 2 talk 2U asap, don't tell R* _– he stopped and edited it a little so Kurt wouldn't think there was bad news._ need 2 talk 2U asap, good but need help, plz don't tell._ He didn't need to say who not to tell, who else could there be, and there was always a chance Rachel might get a quick glance at it and notice it more if he mentioned her. He pressed send, then waited.

And waited. And started looking at the draft of his psych term paper when he realized that Kurt might be in rehearsal or something, it was late afternoon. He tried to put it out of his head while he got himself back up to speed on his topic; sure he remembered writing the paper so far, but it still felt a little unreal, he wasn't the same him who'd written it.

After dinner the call came. "Sorry it took me so long," Kurt apologized. "I was practicing, we don't take many breaks these days. What's going on that has you so secretive?"

"I remember," Finn said.

"_What?_" Kurt's voice was suddenly louder. "What do you remember?" he asked, more quietly.

"A lot. Not sure it's everything, and I just had the breakthrough this morning, but – I remember Rachel, so much about Rachel, so many times together, even when we were split up... it's like I had a ten-ton weight dropped on my head, full of memories of Rachel. And everyone else, everything really, but she's the backbone of all of it. It's not isolated memories, it all fits together and I feel it too." He exhaled. "I'm back, Kurt, I'm really back."

"Wow." Kurt sounded happy. "That's wonderful."

"Yeah. But I don't know what to do about it. It's all I can do to stop myself from calling her, or getting on the next bus to go see her. But it's really new, it's only just back and I haven't talked to my shrink about it yet, and anyway Hiram says to wait. But I don't want to."

"You told Hiram already?" Kurt was surprised.

"Yeah, he's my lawyer, he needed to know, and I wanted to talk to him about Rachel."

"Hmm. So what do you need me for?"

"We're worried it'll throw her if she finds out, it's almost the end of term, so he says I should hold off on telling her until she gets back. But I'm also worried about what you told me, how much she misses me and how upset she is sometimes. Just thinking about her crying over me, I want to be there so badly. I need to know how she is and how you think she'd react."

"How would she react? She'd be thrilled. She'd want to see you right away." But Kurt paused, and groaned. "Oh. I see what he means."

"What do _you_ mean?"

"She's lonely, and she misses you, but... she's been using it. Channeling it, like I said before. It's like she's convinced herself that she has to be the very best and then you'll be so spellbound that it won't matter what you remember."

"Um... that's kind of weird, Kurt."

"It is, and she knows it, she knows it's just something she's told herself to turn her situation into something that helps her instead of hurts her. A sort of emotional jujitsu. But whatever she's doing, it's working."

"And there isn't time for something else to work instead."

"Not really."

"But I remember I always promised I'd be there for opening night. And this is her first show, in New York, and it's even going to be her birthday."

"Finn – she'd drop everything if she saw you. We train at dealing with surprises, but that's more like 'how to save the show if your costars screw up or the scenery falls apart', not 'how to keep your mind on the show when the love of your life reappears without warning'."

"Yeah, that's what I was worried about. And it's a big break for her, I don't want to screw it up." Finn tried to remind himself that his goal had been to remember by the time she got back; he'd managed to do it early and was now a temporary victim of his own success. But the thought of Rachel still lonely, still needing him and worrying about him when she didn't need to, that cut deeply. _She's strong, she's really busy, her friends are still there for her,_ he reminded himself. _It's just eleven more days. _"Okay," he told Kurt. "But keep an eye on her, please? I know you have your own stuff to do, but – just don't let her worry about me."

"Deal."

"Great. Thank you. And Kurt?"

"Yes?"

"Anything you need, just ask. I owe you so much for all of this. It isn't the first time you've kept both of us from falling apart without each other, though I sure hope it's the last. You're the best brother ever."

"She's my friend too, I couldn't not help her. Both of you."

"I know. But that still doesn't mean we don't owe you. And I'd help you out anyway even if you hadn't done this. Good people deserve good things, and you're the best. She's not the only person I'm remembering properly now."

"That's good," Kurt replied, his smile evident in his voice. "But, uh, I really have to go now or I won't get a chance to eat. I'll be in touch. Take care Finn." With that he hung up.

_I guess that settles it,_ Finn thought. _Just eleven days. And it is good that she's managing to use things to her advantage, at least for now._ He momentarily let himself indulge in the same fantasy Kurt had described, of Rachel shining brightly on stage, completely stunning him with her brilliance and then marching straight up to him and having her way with him. It was a little ridiculous that she thought she'd need to do that, but it was still really hot.

* * *

Tuesday night was karaoke. Finn knew he could trust his friends not to pass the word to Rachel, they'd already been very good at keeping quiet about what he'd remembered before. He didn't want to make any sort of announcement, though. As for Puck... Finn smirked. Yeah, Puck had been a big help and a great friend, he'd never have managed without him, but his old friend had also had a lot of fun at Finn's expense and Finn wasn't above getting a little of his own back. Puck was due a taste of 'haven't I sung this before' himself, let him wonder what Finn remembered for a change. And Finn was quite sure he'd seen "Fat Bottomed Girls" in the karaoke list.

When Finn arrived he saw Puck at the bar, none of the others there yet.

"Hey Puck," Finn called out.

"Hey," Puck called back, giving Finn a glance over his shoulder. Then he froze, turned, and stared. "Holy shit."

"Uh... what?"

A grin slowly spread over Puck's face. "Holy fucking shit, _Finn._ It worked. It really worked. Fuckin' A."

_How the hell does he know?_ Finn tried to keep a confused expression on his face, but failed, and slowly started to grin.

"Welcome back, bro." Puck closed the last few steps, and slapped him on the back. "So that's what it took, huh?"

"Seems that's what it took. Can't be sure it's everything, but..." Finn shrugged, smiling. "It all feels right. Like me."

"Well you look like you."

"You can actually _tell_?"

"Uh, yeah, guess so. Not sure how, you still look confused, but you always did. You just seem like you, normal you confused, not amnesiac you confused." Puck grinned. "You weren't going to tell me, huh Finnessa?"

Finn turned sheepish. "Not at first. Thought I'd give you a little 'blast from the past' yourself."

"Motherfucker."

"You're lucky Rachel doesn't call you that. She might if you piss her off enough."

Puck winced. "You just _had_ to remember that, huh."

"Can't pick and choose, it's a package deal. Trust me, I'd much rather have left that out. And a few other choice things."

"I can guess what some of those are. But they happened, you might as well know them too." Puck shrugged.

"So, do you think other people will be able to tell?"

"You mean will _Rachel_ be able to tell? Haven't you told her yet? Hell, I'm surprised you're not halfway to New York by now."

"Yeah, so am I. But her dads don't think I should, she's really into a tight spot at school right now, plus she's in this show, they say she's managing and don't think I should break into that." Finn frowned. "Kurt agrees. I don't know, I can't be objective about this when I want to see her so badly."

"Well you could surprise her, be waiting to sweep her off her feet when she gets home. She might not be able to tell by looking at you, probably too much wishful thinking to get in the way, but you plant one on her and she should know."

Finn waved the suggestion off. "I don't care about surprising her or anything like that, I just don't want her to miss me any more than she has to. She's had a really hard time, I'm supposed to be there with her."

When the others arrived Finn sprung his surprise on them instead, taking control of the karaoke machine and selecting songs he remembered them doing before. Tina singing "True Colors" seemed to be written off as coincidence, but Artie started looking at him funny when he had Puck sing "Fat Bottomed Girls", and Tina was staring once Brittany was singing "Run the World (Girls)". He raised the stakes with "Friday", probably enjoying that song for the first time ever as he wondered just how long he could push this for. Unlike other times that they'd told him about, he wasn't picking from a particular sequence or time, just stuff they'd done. Finally he had them all doing "Proud Mary", though it sounded weird without Mercedes, and Artie rolled over as they finished.

"Finn, what's going on with the music selections? You don't even like all of these."

Finn suppressed his smile. "How do you know?" he asked, doing his best to sound and look puzzled.

"Because –" Artie cut himself off, frowning.

"Because we've done them all before," Brittany said, picking up the thought. The others glared at her. "What? It's not like he doesn't know."

Puck burst out laughing. "Told you it'd be Brittany," he told Finn. "Everyone else is overthinking it."

Blaine's jaw dropped. "You really remember all this?" he asked Finn, dumbfounded. "Consciously?"

"What, Kurt didn't tell you?" Finn asked in return, finally letting himself grin. "Yes, it's all back. At least I sure think so and it had better stay."

"Since when?" Artie asked.

"Yesterday morning."

All thoughts of singing were forgotten as the others bombarded Finn with questions, which quickly turned into a variety of unsolicited advice once he told them Kurt and Rachel's dad had both convinced him not to tell Rachel until her term was done. Various scenarios for how to tell her were offered, each more involved than the last, and once someone started using the word 'vote' Finn decided that was enough.

"Look, guys, I'm so grateful for everything you've done to help me out," he interjected as Blaine and Tina were debating big romantic gestures. "But I'm in charge of my life now, okay? That was kind of the point." They looked crestfallen, and he hadn't meant to be rude, but it seemed like they'd gotten a bit too familiar with knowing more about his life than he did, and that wasn't true any more. He knew himself, and he knew Rachel. Sure, she liked big romantic stuff but not if she was made insecure about it first, and some of their suggestions were way too much like the 'pretend to take someone for granted and then surprise them by being thoughtful later' stuff that Rachel would hate (if she didn't run off after stage one, which she just might – deliberately upsetting Rachel would be a bad idea even if she hadn't already been through so much). He'd usually kept things simple, and she'd appreciated his heartfelt sentiments as offered without needing anything beyond sincerity. "Sorry, and some of that sounds great for some other time, but I don't want to leave Rachel in suspense for a minute more than I need to. She's been worried about me more than enough for a lifetime by now. She gets back, I tell her, the two of us take it from there."

* * *

Finn was torn on how to tell his shrink about all this, at his next appointment. He settled for a relatively direct approach: he put his hand out and introduced himself.

"Hi, I'm Finn Hudson."

Belhaven blinked, then looked at him carefully, seeing the wide grin that Finn couldn't hide any longer. "Yes you are, aren't you?" He beamed, then gestured Finn to a chair and leaned back in his. "So tell me about yourself."

Finn talked about a lot of things in the hour that followed, but mostly about Rachel. What he remembered, some about how he remembered it and how it had made everything fit together, and also about what to do now. He wanted to know what the psychiatrist thought about Hiram and Kurt's concerns, that finding out about his recovery might distract her too much during a very stressful time; he wasn't surprised when the doctor approved of that reasoning, but he was still disappointed.

Finn couldn't shake the feeling that Rachel was the final piece to truly connect him to his recovered memories. He remembered her and loved her, but it still felt a little disjoint from him, and he had the same sort of keyed-up nervousness about being with Rachel again that he used to get before big games, the sort of 'I don't know what I'm doing' feeling that always went away as soon as something started. It was always easier just to be with Rachel than think about being with Rachel, a complicated thing made so very simple when he could just do it. Would their connection be there, as wonderful and simply _there _as he remembered it to be? It must, surely, but he'd be a lot happier when he could be with her and have everything fall into place the way it should.

_Nine days._

* * *

Wednesday night he went over to Puck's for video games, but before starting to play, Puck decided to give him an impromptu quiz on three years of Glee Club. Everything was in there, including some stuff that Finn figured Puck put in because he wanted to know that Finn was dealing with it, like Finn's reaction to finding out about Puck and Quinn.

Finn could also tell that Puck had been dying to tease him about some of it, like his Rocky Horror costume walk through the halls and his Lady Gaga outfit. Still, it wasn't a bad idea to check for holes, and he was happy not to find any.

"Do you remember when Rachel defended you to Santana?" Puck asked eventually.

_There was more than once_, Finn thought. _But the best one – yeah, that's clear as day._

He hadn't been paying attention at the start of it; he'd been talking quietly with Rachel and enjoying having his arm around her again after the long day of school. Santana had been at the far end of the choir room, talking to Brittany and Rory, and had started angrily ranting about the double standard at McKinley, how public displays of affection were tolerated but only between 'straight' couples. Her volume had increased as she started complaining about Finn and Rachel, primarily Finn, drawing the attention of the rest of the club.

_"I can't even kiss Brit in the hall, but nobody stops Gigantor there from mauling his pet hobbit any chance he gets," Santana complains. And that's really rude, 'cause I don't maul Rachel, we're happy together so everyone else should just finally butt out and care about their own stuff instead. Especially Santana, we support her and Brittany so why can't she do the same for us? I stroke Rachel's hair, and it feels really good under my hand, all silky, and she sighs and leans her head against me as we try to ignore what's going on at the other end of the room._

_"Why does she always call Finn those weird names?" I hear Rory ask Brittany. Because she's Santana, I reply mentally, but of course Brittany has some wacky justification for her girlfriend's stream of insults._

_"He's a giant," she answers, like it's obvious. "He needs a giant name and she's trying them out."_

_"Finn is a giant name, from Ireland," Rory says, and that sounds interesting to me, but clearly not to Santana who just wants to rant. She must have had a boring day and needs entertainment._

_"Bad enough to have endured that sack of potatoes intimately myself, but he seems intent on demonstrating his lack of sexual appeal to everyone on a regular basis, and the teachers do nothing," Santana snipes. "I'd say it was part of a school weight-loss strategy, but even the heaviest of the Cheerios don't need that much help to lose their appetite." Right to the sensitive part, as always, Santana. Not that I care much about being hot to anyone except Rachel anyway, but it still kind of hurts, and I can tell Rachel's getting irritated too._

_"I'm kind of an expert on sacks o'potatoes, and I wouldn't say he's at all like one," Rory says, but he's not getting anywhere with Santana, arguing back just eggs her on and Rory's no match. Nice try, but next time just drop it._

_"Did I ask you for your opinion, Irish? Even as much as your kind eat potatoes they've probably never screwed one, at least I hope not, so this is way outside your expertise. Not mine, unfortunately. Last time I take a v-card charity case." Yep, Santana's escalating. I rub Rachel's knee to keep us both calm as we try to ignore it._

_"I would hope so," Brittany says quietly. She doesn't like Santana talking about the guys she's been with, everyone seems to know that except Santana herself. Where's Mr. Schue anyway?_

_"He got a pretty girl to agree to marry him, he must be doing somethin' right," Rory puts in._

_"I grant you Yentl seems happy enough, but it's not like she knows any better, Shamu there is all she's ever had." Santana finishes off her put-down with a superior smile and a toss of her head, classic Santana but extra mean in suggesting that Rachel's wrong to be happy with me, can't she mind her own damn business for once?_

_And now it's really hard to ignore, because everyone else is looking at us. I'm pissed but holding it in, and Rachel's looking down at her notebook. I don't know what she's thinking, though I know she hates when Santana pulls this stuff, like that crappy ten minutes that should never have happened means Santana knows me or anything about how Rachel and I are together. But then Rachel takes a deep breath, puts her pen down and looks back at Santana, and shit, she is not ignoring it any more._

_"True satisfaction does not require a basis for comparison, Santana," Rachel says, loudly and precisely, no way to mistake what she said, but – true satisfaction, huh? Wow. Though I agree, when we're together nothing else matters, and we don't need to compare to anyone else to know that what we have is special. I smirk a little at this defense, but it's not over. "Even you must admit that, you can't have slept with everyone," she finishes, and I groan mentally because that's just baiting Santana to go further._

_"I beg your pardon?" Santana snarls at her, 'cause Santana used to sleep around a lot but she doesn't like it brought up, even though she kind of just did herself, and anyway that was before she was comfortable with who she is._

_"And so you should," Rachel pushes back, and she's pissed but definitely taking charge of this throwdown. "You never pass up a chance to throw it in my face that you were with Finn first, even though it's abundantly clear that this is largely a technicality, since you were obviously unable to bring out his better qualities the way I have." Uh, okay, that's completely true, though I never thought about it like that, but this isn't going to end well... I clutch at her knee to try to hold her back, but there is no stopping her now. "Not that it should matter since he's clearly not your type. As for his appeal **to me**, conventional wisdom states that it's not the size that counts, it's what you do with it. I wouldn't know, since Finn's considerable size is easily matched by his generosity, talent and enthusiasm as my lover, and his stature is perfectly proportionate."_

_And everyone's jaw drops, Santana's included, Puck is smirking, and I'm just totally gobsmacked. Did Rachel really just say that about me? Generosity, talent, enthusiasm... Rachel-speak for 'awesome in bed', and holy fuck, she just said that about me. And that's what she thinks about me and how we are together, yes I love taking care of her and she always seems to enjoy it a whole lot, it feels amazing and we're so connected, but... **wow**. Though I don't quite get all of what she said._

_"Proportionate?" I whisper to her. That word sounds a little insulting._

_"Finn, there isn't any part of you that can be described as small," I hear her whisper back, and I grin, 'cause **yeah**, and it's great to be appreciated by my girl for what I've got and what I do with it, especially how great and how close we feel then, and she is so getting extra lucky next time we have the chance. There's no way I'm going to let her be wrong about **that**._

_Everyone's kind of frozen now, especially when Mr. Schue finally comes in, and he is really confused at how everyone's quiet and looking shocked. "What's going on, guys?" he asks, and I try to come up with something to get things going again and cover, but as usual Rach gets to it first, and she decides to stick to the truth._

_"I found it necessary to defend my fiancé's sexual prowess, Mr. Schuester," I hear her say as she picks her pen back up, and her tone is so matter-of-fact that I almost choke. "As I fail to see how this topic can be of relevance to anyone other than myself, I think we can now proceed with Glee Club as usual."_

_She's right about it not being their business, but... holy fuck, Rach. That girl never fails to surprise me, and **wow**. And now I do start to cough, and excuse myself to get some water, and I have to get myself under control too because hearing her say those things about me like it's just plain truth is so damn hot. _

_Luckily by the time I go back in, Mr. Schue is talking about some audience connection stuff and everyone's moved on. But nobody else is home at our place that night, so it's time to show Rach that she told the truth about me, and why it doesn't matter what anybody else thinks about us because we know what we have together is so __**right**__._

Puck saw Finn smirk at the memory. "I see you remember that one," he said. "Your girl certainly schooled the rest of us, and held her own with Santana. Not many can, but San'll back off when you do. And Berry's 'I'm finished now so class can continue' bit at the end was classic."

"I'm probably the only guy that gets complimented as 'proportionate'," Finn said.

Puck laughed. "Yeah, I wasn't sure about that bit at first either," he admitted. "Sounds like the sort of thing small dudes get told as an excuse. But you're not a small dude."

"Nope." Finn grinned. And he'd enjoyed showing Rachel why she'd been right about all the rest too. "Any more things you want to see if I remember?"

"Hmm." Puck thought for a moment. "Why does Rachel call me 'Noah' instead of 'Puck'?"

Finn searched his mind when no answer came readily. All he could remember is that it bothered him. He shrugged. "I don't know," he admitted. "It bugs me that she does, but I don't know why she does it."

"Does she know it bugs you?"

"I don't think so." Finn frowned, a bit worried. "Okay, Puck, so why does she call you that?"

"I don't know, I wondered if you did," Puck said with a grin.

Finn threw an empty soda can at his friend and laughed ruefully. "Asshole."

"Hey, maybe I'd finally find out." Puck sobered. "Why does it bug you anyway?"

"Just – it reminds me of you and her," Finn said. "That you went out way back when I was tied to Quinn. And that she turned to you when all that crap about me and Santana tanked her self-esteem." He frowned. "I don't know, it just makes me feel that you two share something, what with you being there for her when I should've been but wasn't. It's a little personal."

"Don't worry about that, dude, really," Puck said, slapping Finn on the shoulder. "Both times she just wished I was you. She certainly wasn't calling me 'Noah' then."

Finn swallowed, not really wanting to know, but couldn't stop himself from asking. "What did she call you?"

"'Finn'. Not sure she realized she said it, but Berry's always had it bad for you, dude."

"Wow."

"Yep." Puck nodded. "Anyway she's been calling me 'Noah' long before any of that, so who knows why at this point, she's probably just being ornery. Don't take it personally."

"I'll try not to, I don't really. Anything else you think I would know?"

"What's the deal with her diet comments?"

"Private joke, not telling." Finn gave Puck a mock-glare. "Any more things _you_ actually know?"

"Do you remember when I ambushed you in the alley in _Call of Duty_ and kicked your ass?"

Finn smirked. "No, but I remember when you ambushed me in the alley and _tried_ to kick my ass."

"Hey, you died."

"So did you."

"Your ass still got kicked."

"Ass-kicking implies showing superiority, and you didn't."

"Hey, fancy words." Puck raised his eyebrows. "Where did those come from?"

Finn shrugged. "Spend enough time around Rachel and they rub off."

Puck snorted. "Well while it is great to have you back for real, I think it's time we cut the chatter and started kicking ass together. Now that the natural order of things is restored."

"'Natural order'?"

"I hated being the more mature one of us, it felt so _wrong_. And way too much responsibility." Puck smirked. "Back to normal now, so let's play."

* * *

Finn continued to quiz himself the next day, using photographs. He'd deliberately avoided looking at most pictures from the time he'd forgotten, not wanting to interfere with remembering on his own, but now that he did remember it was a good way to be sure of it. He could place them all, not always specifically, but he hadn't always been that great at remembering specifics even before the accident, so he figured that was normal.

Catching his attention the most were those on his phone from the last few days before the accident, mostly of Rachel. Rachel at the barbeque, wearing her star dress, playing, laughing, smiling. One shot had her in profile with a quiet smile, and he remembered taking that one, seeing the look on her face as she'd watched their friends, and catching it quickly before she noticed him and turned. And shots from two days later, when they'd gone to see Blaine perform at the Kings Island amusement park, including one of them together that he'd had Kurt take for him. He remembered that one well, he'd felt so perfectly happy, sitting on the bench with Rachel on his knee, their arms wrapped around each other, both with irrepressible smiles. They'd started the return trip an hour later, leaving Kurt with Blaine, and then they'd run into heavy traffic, and then...

Then it was four days later and he hadn't remembered any of it.

But that man in the picture, the one who was so in love and so happy that he couldn't stop beaming if he wanted to, this was who he was. And would be again, as soon as the same girl was in those same arms. Finn transferred the picture to his computer and printed it out, a large print he could look at to help him really sink into the memory, needing to tide himself over until he could restore that last crucial piece. Rachel, always Rachel.

_Eight days._

* * *

Friday night he had dinner with Rachel's dads, and they talked a lot about his future, long term, short term, and a lot of medium term. Finn felt strange telling them so much of his plans before discussing them with Rachel, but he didn't think it was anything she'd have a problem with, not all that different than before.

Their discussions about what to do when Rachel got back from New York got a lot less complicated for Finn once he realized that he was a free agent, he didn't have to agree to anything or negotiate. Finn could do whatever he wanted, they were the ones who needed his agreement, not the other way around. Of course, Finn didn't want to annoy his prospective future fathers-in-law, and Hiram especially had been a big help, but Finn was able to be a lot more insistent. And they should appreciate that his bottom line was always Rachel, he didn't want her to be upset over him any more or kept in suspense. Though it was clear they still didn't get just how close he and Rachel were, which meant they didn't understand just how much his situation could be preying on her mind and emotions. He'd wait for her term and her show to finish, but not more, and he insisted on doing a few other things before that as well.

Rachel's birthday was on Tuesday – he'd already sent his gift with Kurt, before he'd had the final breakthrough, so that was nonnegotiable. It was getting overshadowed by being opening night of her show, she was hardly going to have any time to celebrate, so presents were important, and it could hardly reveal his situation when he'd picked it out before. The star earrings should go with her necklace that she knew he'd seen. Finn insisted on sending flowers to her at the show as well – they'd left things between them in a good place and planned to work more out over Christmas, so why wouldn't he? Finn conceded only as far as picking something that wouldn't give away his returned memory. Even if she would be too distracted if she found out his memory was properly back, at least this way she wouldn't be hurt by thinking that he didn't care, she'd know he was waiting for her even though she didn't know which version of him it was.

And when she returned – "You saw her only three weeks ago," Finn stated. "Once she's here there's no reason to wait any longer."

_Seven days._

* * *

Finn's limited patience at waiting got thinner and thinner the longer it had to hold out. He was happy to see Kurt when he returned two days before Rachel was due back, but it just made Finn think of Rachel more.

Kurt had gone to the show's opening night and then flown back to Ohio. Finn was glad to hear from him that Rachel was doing well (_'stunning on stage, simply stunning, you're lucky she loves you because otherwise the line forms to the left'_) and had loved his gift, but hearing about it just made the waiting harder. Then he got an idea.

"Hey Kurt, you have your apartment keys, right?"

"Yes," Kurt answered hesitatingly. "Why?" He looked at Finn's eager face and groaned. "No."

"I haven't said anything."

"You don't need to. No I am not lending you my keys so you can go and surprise Rachel."

"Hey, I was just thinking. Okay, I don't want to do anything to screw up her performance and the show, but what about _after_ the last show? I could go wait for her when she gets home. I can get there in time."

"There's a cast party. She's only planning to be home long enough to change."

"I could go too."

"Neither of you would go at all, don't try to fool me on that."

Finn grinned. "Okay, but would that be so bad?"

"A post-show cast party isn't just for blowing off steam, it's for networking. There are people who want to meet her."

"Maybe I don't want them to meet her."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "Not guys on the make, industry and NYADA people. Professionals who are interested in her voice and public performance abilities."

Finn frowned. "Yeah, okay. After the cast party?" he offered tentatively.

Kurt raised his eyebrows. "You seriously want to go all the way to New York the day before she's coming back here, so you can have a reunion and probably a very serious conversation with her in the middle of the night when she is completely exhausted? And she's heading to the airport first thing _anyway_?"

"Yeah, okay, dumb idea," Finn grumbled.

"I know you can't wait to see her. And I know you don't want to make her wait any more either. But she'll be back in two days. And then you can take your time getting 'reacquainted' or whatever you end up doing that I probably won't want to hear about."

Finn sighed. "So stick to the plan."

"So stick to the plan." Kurt saw Finn's discontent, though, and took pity on him. "She loved your flowers, by the way," he said. "The daisies were an inspired choice, she remembered the ones you gave her in August and knew they had to be from you as soon as she saw them. She even has them by her bed."

Finn couldn't help smiling at this. He'd known that was the right arrangement as soon as he'd seen it, something that would remind her of a good time they'd had together _after_ the accident. And the note he'd sent with them had simply told her he was waiting for her. So he'd better do that.

_Two more days._

* * *

The next night Rachel returned to her apartment after the last show, happy with how well it had gone, both her participation in the group numbers and her short solo. Her suitcase sat on the floor of her room, already packed except for a last few items; all that was left was to go to the cast party, sleep, then head to the airport and fly home.

She looked at the multicolored daisies Finn had sent her for opening night, starting to fade on their third day, and her heart swelled. And the note he'd sent with them – _'I'm waiting for you. Finn.'_ – well she didn't know anything about what he remembered, or whether any of the songs she'd sent to Carole for him had done anything, but he was waiting, and she'd make sure that even if he didn't remember any of their closer moments before he'd have some new ones to remember before the holidays were over. He was trying to make his way back to her, and she'd help him however he needed to be helped; she also knew exactly how to turn him on, and she'd be quite happy to remind him of that if and when he'd let her.

But first, the cast party. She changed into her robe and sat down at her desk with her makeup mirror and her laptop. Kurt had insisted on vetting her look for the party, despite having gone back to Lima the morning of the previous day, so she signed into Skype and applied her regular foundation as she waited for him. It was wonderful to be able to stay in touch so easily, even though it meant Kurt could continue his tyranny over her wardrobe even in absentia.

She'd narrowed it down to a black dress and a navy blue one, and once Kurt showed up he voted in favor of the navy blue.

"Unless I can convince you to wear the red dress, it's perfect for a party like that, especially at Christmas," he commented.

Rachel sighed. That dress was too sexy to wear to a party solo; it had been hard for Kurt to convince her to buy it in the first place after it caught her eye, and she'd never worn it anywhere. "No, I am not wearing the red dress, and you know I wouldn't, it would just give people the wrong idea. Besides, it's packed."

"You're bringing it with you?" Kurt raised his eyebrows. "To give a certain someone a not-so-wrong idea?"

Rachel blushed. "Yes."

Kurt smirked. "Planning to try to seduce my brother, hmm?"

Rachel blushed more deeply, flustered, lowering her eyes. Of course that was the idea, basically, but she still didn't like to think about doing it so blatantly or how Finn might react. But then another voice interrupted her thoughts.

"She doesn't have to try."

_Finn._ Rachel's eyes flashed back to the screen, and there he was, leaning over Kurt's shoulder, his eyes intense. Her breath caught.

"Hey Rach," Finn said, giving her a soft smile. "And I know what you said about that, but I get why, and I mean it the right way now."

_He... what? Oh, my name... __**Oh.**_ Rachel felt her heart race. "You do?"

"Yes. It's me, it really is now." In the screen she saw Kurt attempt to shove him away, but he refused to move. He glanced down at his brother. "You broke the rule, Kurt."

"Like you did by coming into my room without permission?"

"One rule, don't let her worry about me, and you broke it." Finn stepped back, but only so he could wheel Kurt's chair out of the way, despite Kurt's protests at this. He leaned down in front of the computer. "Guess you'll have to make do with me, Rach. I heard your voice and I just couldn't walk away." He grinned. "I suck at fashion advice, all I can really think about are things I don't want you to wear for anyone else, but most of those wouldn't be suitable for a party like that anyway. That pink sundress of yours that you wore _again_ when we went to the fair –"

Rachel caught the emphasized 'again', and tears came to her eyes. She'd hoped he might remember that, when she'd decided to wear the dress that day. Apparently eventually he had.

"– that dark blue dress with the red tie and the flowers –"

_That dress... I was wearing that the day he proposed._ Rachel gasped. "Finn. You remember that?"

"I remember. I remember a lot, I can't be sure it's everything but it feels like it. Don't know how I could forget, actually, it's weird even thinking back to when I didn't remember. There's something so wrong about me not remembering you." He glanced aside briefly as a noise seemed to distract him, presumably from Kurt. "And now Kurt's going to get worried I've gone all strange because I actually remembered clothes, but I do when you're wearing them." He swallowed. "Though really I just mostly see you."

A few tears started to flow down Rachel's cheek as she looked at him. He looked warmly back, though a little down, looking at the screen instead of into the camera.

"Hey, it's okay now, Rach, it's going to be all right. I'm sorry I didn't tell you before, but you were so busy with everything we thought it'd throw you too much."

"Seems we were right," Kurt commented sharply, coming back into the picture. "I hate to break this up, but you have a party to get to, diva."

"Screw the party," Rachel said vehemently. "Nothing's more important than this." She wiped her eyes quickly, fixing them back on Finn the moment they were clear.

Finn blinked back tears too, but frowned a little. "No, you need to go," he said. "It's important, you have to network, right? You're a star, of course they want to talk to you. And you don't have to choose, I'm not going anywhere. Go have a good time, I'll see you tomorrow." He smiled again. "I can wait as long as you need me to."

Rachel sniffled at hearing those words she'd used to him in the hospital when she'd been trying to explain how she felt about him. She nodded, smiling through her tears. "Tomorrow, Finn," she promised.

Kurt elbowed Finn out of the way, who straightened, then Kurt rolled his chair back into position and sat down. "When are the agents of chaos picking you up?" he asked pointedly.

Rachel cleared her throat, trying to refocus. "Amanda said she and Megan would come by at ten to eleven," she replied, still distracted.

"Not much time then. Get your makeup done. You should wear the blue dress, so smoky with a touch of the aubergine will bring out your eyes."

"Go easy," Finn's voice came from behind Kurt. "No sad clown hooker like the first time Kurt gave you makeup advice." Rachel giggled at the memory. "You're gorgeous natural, babe. Always have been."

"Out, Finn." Kurt flashed a glare up and back. "If you see the finished result you'll never let her leave."

"And this is a problem _how_?" But Finn chuckled ruefully. "Okay, I'll leave you to it. Just leave your hair down, Rach, for me. I'll tell you why tomorrow. Along with everything else." And with that he was gone.

Rachel closed her eyes, trying to slow her heart back to something close to normal. It was all so wonderful, Finn remembered her, he was waiting for her, he lo... _but he didn't say that. _"He didn't tell me he loves me," she said in a small voice. Her hand was still shaking too much to put on makeup. _But of course he must, he even remembers proposing. And I didn't say it either, it was all so sudden._

"Probably just saving it for tomorrow. It's not a secret."

"How long...?"

"Has he remembered? That's for him to tell, but it hasn't been very long. You've hardly had a free moment the whole time, that's why he didn't tell you. It took some fancy talking to convince him not to get on the first New York-bound bus anyway."

"_Oh..._" Rachel's mind started to clear a little. "I'm not sure what I would have done, if I'd seen him," she admitted. _Aside from throw myself into his arms and ignore the rest of the world._

"He didn't want to interfere with your exams and with the show. He also didn't want you to be upset about missing him, though. Hence the rule. And yes, I broke it, and I'm sorry, I didn't mean to. I was just teasing and I didn't realize it could make you worry about what you might be trying to do."

"That's all right now," Rachel said. "It did, just for a moment, until I heard him."

"Good thing he was eavesdropping then." Rachel stared at this, and Kurt laughed. "Come on, you don't think he just happened to walk by? You know the way this place is laid out. He wanted to hear your voice."

Rachel smiled happily, then took a deep breath. Her nerves seemed calmer now, her hands steadier. "Then, right now, the show's gotta go all over the place."

Kurt laughed at her Finn-ism, and they continued talking as she got ready for the party.


	36. your love has shown me proof

_A/N: thanks to all of you for your patience, both voluntary and involuntary. I hope this is worth the wait._

* * *

The next day Rachel arrived at the Dayton airport just after noon. As she headed down the escalator to the arrivals area, she wondered again how long she was going to need to spend with her dads before she could see Finn. Of course she'd missed her dads very much, even though they'd visited her recently, so she felt guilty that all she really wanted to do was ditch them, but every moment more before she could reunite with Finn was an agony, mixed hope and worry and anticipation. How would he be? He said he remembered everything, and he'd deliberately picked two very key moments to tell her that he remembered. She was so happy about that, and she was sure today's journey had been much easier than if they hadn't talked last night. But would their connection still be there just as it had been before? Despite the interruption and all that each of them had been through?

As she looked down to the waiting people as they came into view from their feet up, she saw at the front a pair of long male legs in jeans, the hem of a plaid shirt, and the bottom of what looked like a McKinley High letterman jacket. _Finn._ Holding her coat and carry-on made it difficult for her to weave through the people below her quickly, but she gave it all she could. She barely saw the single pink tulip he held or the 'I heart NY' shirt under the plaid; she was too dazzled by the wide welcoming smile that suffused his face when he spotted her. Once away from the escalator she ran to him, dropped her things and sprang into his opening arms.

Finn, for his part, had been waiting for a while. He'd arrived early and then found out that her flight was running late, and finally that it had arrived but was waiting for airport personnel to operate the gate. If it wasn't one thing, it was another, and he groaned at each new delay. But he stayed at the front of the arrivals area, his eyes always darting back to the screen that showed her flight had landed.

Then sudden movement beneath and behind the screen drew his attention, the slow flow of people coming down the arrivals escalator disturbed by someone hurrying, someone small, insistently surging down through the crowd... _Rach, God, it's her, and she's seen me already..._ Finn's heart soared joyfully to see her, even more to know she was coming straight to him, and right then nothing mattered except that she was finally here with him again. He opened his arms to her, bending down to wrap them around her and lift her up on her toes as she crashed against him, everything inside him finally feeling completely right again because he had her.

They held each other tightly for a few moments. Then Finn pulled back to look deeply into her eyes. Rachel's knees went weak as she saw the love there, felt his hand cup her cheek, and finally felt his lips against hers. The kiss started softly but deepened quickly, and his tongue caressed hers until they were both breathless. She almost collapsed at the feel of his tongue sliding over hers, slowly, deliberately, not the instinctual passion that he'd shown in those two heated kisses during the summer but instead the kiss of a man who not only knew how best to kiss her but knew that he knew, and felt passion and joy and wonder in their kiss. Her Finn. She clutched his shoulders, needing the support, wanting to pull him ever closer.

Eventually she lowered to her feet, and Finn sank his head over her shoulder. "I love you, Rach," he whispered, his voice tight with emotion. "I really do. I remember so much but I feel it too. So completely."

"I love you too," Rachel choked out, her tears flowing in happiness. "Oh Finn, I've missed you so."

They stood there for a few moments more, then broke apart. "I got you this," Finn said a little awkwardly, handing her the tulip.

Rachel smiled. "My favorite."

"I know." Finn grinned. "Welcome back."

"You too." She pulled him down to her again, running her hands up his back, feeling the wonderful _Finn_-ness of him, his strong shoulders, up to the hair that curled a little at the back of his neck. She buried her head into his lowered shoulder and inhaled, breathing him in. The long-tied knot loosened inside her and she started to cry again, her body wracked by sobs as she let out the sorrow she'd been holding in for so long in order to survive.

Finn held her tightly, his hands soothing on her back. "It's all right, let it out, I've got you," his voice came quietly in her ear. He was crying too. "It's over. I love you."

They stood like that for a while even after Rachel's sobs subsided, attracting a little attention, even a woman who asked them if they were okay. They nodded, unwilling to break apart, each of them just feeling the other and glad at how very right it was to hold each other, to feel _together_.

"So you remember everything?" Rachel asked softly, her head still buried in his shoulder.

"Yes," Finn answered, swallowing back his own happy tears. "As far as I can tell. Everything important, anyway, it's not like my memory was perfect to begin with."

Rachel chuckled at this, and finally settled back on her heels, looking up at him. "Not your memory, no," she said.

Finn almost teared up again at her implication, but he settled for wiping away hers, tenderly touching her face and enjoying being able to take care of her again.

"How do I look?" she said as he finished, giving him a bright smile.

"Like an angel," Finn answered. He smiled. "Like a star. Like Rachel Berry, the love of my life."

She rose to kiss him again, less urgently this time. Then she bent to get her things, quickly putting her coat on and picking up her shoulder bag. "We should go," she said, evading Finn's attempts to take her bag for her. "You can get my case if you like," she explained, taking his hand, their fingers interlacing as always. "I brought the red one."

"The one you had at Nationals?"

"That's the one," Rachel said, walking close to him as they threaded their way through the arrival crowds to the luggage carousel. "So, I take it my dads didn't come after all."

"No, I told them I was coming, and they decided there wasn't much point in them coming too," Finn explained. "Like your surprise?"

"I love my surprise." Rachel kept smiling as she watched Finn retrieve her case. The gold star marking one corner did tend to give it away, but it was just good to see him so normal about it.

They took her luggage out to Kurt's Navigator in the parkade, hands interlaced again as they went.

Rachel could hardly stand to lose his touch when he loaded her case into the back, but thrilled again as he lifted her up into the front passenger seat, stealing a kiss as he did so.

"I'm impressed that Kurt lent you his baby," Rachel said as Finn started the engine. "Even though he's had it for a while, he's still protective."

"Yeah, well, I haven't replaced the old truck yet," Finn explained. "There are some spare vehicles around home, and Kurt's been nice enough to let me use this from time to time, though I was surprised when he suggested I take it today, since he's home. But it is the best one for the trip." Finn stopped at the exit to pay for the parking, then turned onto the highway.

They drove on for a little while, happy just to be together. Then Finn spoke.

"Only problem with just having us for this drive is I have to keep my eyes on the road," he said with a self-conscious smile. He gave her a glance. "I just want to look at you. But we'll be home soon."

"Where are you taking me?" Rachel asked.

"Back to your place," Finn said. "I convinced your dads to clear out and let us have some time alone so we can talk."

Rachel made a happy sound, which won her another look and smile from Finn.

"Quite a difference from last year, huh?" he joked.

"The things you'll go through to get my dads to leave us alone together," Rachel replied. She was so happy she felt she was about to burst.

"Yeah, the worst long con in history." Finn drove on a little further, then took an exit to a gas station. "Need to refuel," he commented.

"But it says you're at three-quarters," Rachel said as they pulled into the gas station and stopped. Finn snapped his seat belt off and turned to her.

"I don't mean the Nav." He moved to her, his strong arm encircling her shoulders, and he crashed his lips on hers. She returned the kiss passionately, and they spent the next few minutes making out. They parted after a while, Finn settling back in his seat. "This trip's going to take much longer than usual," he said with a grin, restarting the engine.

Finn turned back onto the highway and got up to speed. "Tell me about New York," he prompted. "Tell me anything, everything. I just want to hear your voice."

"I could sing," Rachel suggested.

"Not if you want me to stay out of the ditch," Finn said. Rachel cringed, remembering the accident. "Sorry, I didn't mean it like that," he apologized. "Just that I probably wouldn't be able to concentrate, your singing always does something to me. It always has, and even with those songs you sent I've really missed it."

"Okay. It's just – it was along from here, where it happened," she explained. "I almost decided to fly into Toledo just to avoid this road. Well... New York. It's different living there, different than when we visited. Overwhelming but after a while I could start really getting a feel for the city, the places I went anyway. It's so alive – it helped distract me a bit."

"That's good." Finn swallowed and stared at the road. "I mean, I wouldn't have held it against you if you'd gone on with your life," he said.

"No, nothing like that," Rachel protested.

"I know. But if you had, I'd like to think that I would have understood." He snorted. "For the half a second before I went all in to fight to get you back again."

"You're the only man for me, Finn."

Finn reached over and touched her knee. "And you're the only one for me. Woman, I mean. The only anyone. And I'm sorry I couldn't let you know how things were with me, I didn't want to disrupt anything, I had the breakthrough eleven days ago and you had so much else to do. Plus I couldn't feel completely sure of me until you were here."

"Oh Finn, do you really think any of that matters, now?" She gave him a passionate look, which he returned very briefly before looking back at the road. "And I understand that you needed to be sure. I'm so happy, I don't care how it happened, just that it did."

"Me too, Rach." Finn exhaled. "So... New York. How did your term go at NYADA?"

Rachel talked for a while about school, how intimidated she'd felt, but also how well her term-end show had gone and a bit about some of the friends she'd made. "It was actually quite an honor, as a freshman, to be in the show," she said. "And I thought they'd be more cutthroat but they were really quite nice. Competitive, but nice. And word did get around about you, I tried to hold it in for a while but eventually I couldn't. It won me a lot of sympathy points, though that wasn't my intention."

"Oh yeah?"

"I made some wonderful friends, and I had quite a protective circle eventually. It really helped."

"That's good," Finn commented. "I'm glad they were there for you when I couldn't be."

Rachel touched his arm lightly, not wanting to distract him too much. "Kurt told me some things about how hard you worked on getting your memories back, Finn," she said. "I know you fought for yourself and for us with all you had. And you won, I'm so proud of you. In awe, really, and so, so thankful. For you."

"I had a lot worth fighting for. Everything." Finn glanced at Rachel, and he started to choke up a little at the look of wonder and love she was giving him. "We need another break," he said huskily, feeling unable to say much more, simply soaking up the love that Rachel radiated. But no exit came for a while, and the ease they had in driving quietly together was broken when they came over a rise and Rachel shuddered and turned her head inward, her eyes closed.

"That was where, huh?" Finn asked softly.

Rachel nodded. "Yes."

"Made it this time."

She smiled, but she was still tense, so Finn turned on his iPod. He tried to think of something to relax her and tell her how much she meant to him, even when he hadn't remembered her that much. How she'd saved him and helped him save himself. "Here's a song I sang for you last week," he said. "Of course you didn't hear it then, but it was what I wanted to say to you, so... here it is now." He started it playing, kept his eye on the limited traffic, and sang along once the vocals kicked in: (*)

_I've been down, I've been beat  
I've been so tired that I could not speak  
I've been so lost that I could not see  
I wanted things that were out of reach  
Then I found you and you helped me through  
Yeah you showed me what to do  
And that's why I'm comin' back to you... yeah_

Rachel smiled to see him drum a little on the steering wheel, Finn being Finn, her happiness bubbling up at the sound of his voice. Hearing the words, she could tell he meant them, that she had inspired his fight to regain himself.

He glanced at her, giving her a heartfelt smile as he segued into the chorus, with an extra flash of grin on 'star'.

_Like a star that guides a ship across the ocean  
That's how your love will take me home back to you  
And if I wish upon that star, someday I'll be where you are  
And I know that day is coming soon, yeah, I'm coming back to you_

The next exit finally came up and Finn pulled them off, making for the parking lot at the first gas station.

_You've been alone, but you did not show it  
You've been in pain, but I did not know it  
Let me do what I needed to, you were there when I needed you_

Finn put the Nav into park but kept the engine on, letting the music play, looking intensely at Rachel as he sang. He took her hand tenderly in his, meeting her eyes with sincerity. She was crying again, but smiling through it.

_Mighta let you down, mighta messed you around  
But you never changed your point of view  
And that's why I'm comin' back to you... yeah_

_Like a star that guides a ship across the ocean  
That's how your love will take me home back to you  
And if I wish upon that star, someday I'll be where you are  
And I know that day is coming soon, yeah, I'm coming back to you_

Rachel released her belt and surged at Finn, embracing him passionately. The song continued to repeat the last few lines, but Finn's singing stopped, his mouth otherwise occupied with hers.

They made out for a while, eventually interrupted by a knock on the window from someone who turned out to be the highway patrol. The officer at first suggested that they move on, then took a closer look and contradicted himself.

"Never mind," the man said. "Good to see you lively. Merry Christmas." He moved off, leaving Rachel blushing and Finn puzzled.

"Does he know about us?" Finn asked her. "I know it made the papers at first, especially with Burt being a congressman, but the attention died off pretty quickly, I wouldn't have thought people would recognize us at this point."

"He's local patrol, he attended the accident," Rachel explained. "Though I still wouldn't have thought we'd made that much of an impression."

"He must have a good memory," Finn commented, then laughed at himself. "Easy to laugh about it now, I guess," he said wryly, then sighed, pulling Rachel close again. "You're so strong, babe," he said. "If it had been you, not me – I'd've been a wreck. And I don't know how you managed to live with not being able to do this for so long."

"I didn't," she murmured. "I survived, because I had to. But it wasn't living, not without you."

"God, Rach..." he leaned in for another kiss, brief but no less passionate, before hitting the road again.

* * *

They managed to make it back to Lima before needing yet another break, and Finn pulled into the drive at the Berry house. "They lent me a key," he explained as he opened the door and brought Rachel's luggage inside. They shed their coats and boots and then ascended to Rachel's room. Finn put her case in the corner, then turned back to her.

Rachel smiled up at him. "So why did I need to keep my hair down last night?" She asked. "I did, but you said you'd tell me today."

Finn smiled, then reached out to stroke her hair, carefully moving it aside. "Just wanting to keep everyone away from my spot," he said softly, lowering his head to kiss her neck, once more finding that exact place that drove Rachel crazy. This time his lips moved deliberately rather than by instinct.

"Oh..." Rachel moaned and clutched at him for support as her knees started to buckle. Finn chuckled and held her tightly.

"Now I feel like I'm really back," he murmured, pulling back to look into her eyes as she settled back onto her feet.

Rachel reached up to stroke Finn's face. "Thank you for coming back to me," she said softly, almost overcome with emotion. "I didn't think it was possible to be more in love with you than I was before, but right now –" she found herself unable to continue, and instead pulled him down for a kiss. Finn's arms settled around her.

"'I just can't stop loving you'," Finn said, quoting the song they'd sung together when she'd accepted his proposal. "I never did stop. It was always there, even when I didn't know it."

"I know."

"You even told me as much," Finn admitted. "That made a big difference to me." He exhaled, his arms still around Rachel. "Do you need to eat?"

"Not right now," Rachel said. "You?"

"Not really." Finn caught Rachel's skeptical look. "Hey, I don't need to eat all the time," he protested. "Other things are more important right now."

"Such as?" Rachel smiled.

"I'm a bit tired," Finn said. "You must be too, cast party last night then at the airport early. And all I really want to do is hold you in my arms and never let you go, so how about a nap?"

_Sleep with his arms around me again? Oh yes_, Rachel thought. "A nap would be wonderful."

They lay down together on Rachel's made bed, but Finn jumped up quickly. "I left something here this morning," he explained, going to her closet and bringing out a quilt – his plaid quilt that they'd used when they'd first made love by the fire. Rachel recognized it and smiled at the endearing touch of shared memories. He spread it over her, then shed his outer shirt and slipped under the quilt to put his arms around her.

"Where is everyone, anyway?" she asked, snuggling into him, feeling so very happy in his embrace. _Now I'm home._

"They're at our place," Finn answered. "We can go over later, when we're good and ready."

"So next week sometime then."

"Something like that. I should call them though." Finn pulled his phone out and called his mother. "Hi Mom, we're at Rachel's. Just going to have a nap and then catch up some more." Pause. "And what? And it's wonderful, Mom. And real, definitely real. Can't describe it. Can't quite believe it either." Pause. "I'll put her on." Finn passed Rachel the phone. "My mom wants to know how you are," he explained.

"Hi Carole," Rachel said cheerily. "I'm... Finn's right, there are no words. Beyond happy. You understand, I think." Pause. "Yes, we should be there for dinner, he'll have to eat, some things never change. Love to all of you too."

Finn took the phone as Rachel passed it back. "Love you too Mom, bye." He hung up and put the phone on the nightstand, then pulled Rachel into him again, more tightly than before. "And I love you Rach," he murmured into her hair.

"Love you too, my Finn." She lay curled into him, pressing her head to his chest, wanting nothing more than to drift off to sleep to the sound of his heartbeat.

"Always." And they dozed off, closely entwined together.

* * *

About an hour later Finn awoke, feeling Rachel stir in his arms. He kissed her temple. "Sleep well?" he asked.

Rachel stretched a little, smiling contentedly. "Mmm-hmm. Best since..." she trailed off, flashing a meaningful smile.

"Since July," Finn finished for her, smiling. "Me too. Even when I didn't remember you, I always knew I was missing something." He stroked her hair, and tilted her chin up so she met his eyes. "Thank you."

"What for?"

"You. Loving me. Letting me love you." He smiled. "Being so wonderful and right for me that you _make_ me love you, actually." She gave him an affectionate yet quizzical look. "It was memories of you that did it," Finn explained quietly. "There were a few that came back a bit, a performance, then a whole lot of fragments, but nothing really held together much until I got that song from you. I sang 'Don't Stop' with you and I got a whole month, all of it, fitting right into the stuff I had from before, everything up to Quinn telling me she was pregnant."

Rachel blushed. "Our kiss?"

"Yes." He smiled at her. "You know I was already falling in love with you by then, right?"

"I know. I didn't then, but I did later. And I already knew how I felt about you."

"You're smarter. But it was like that song was tied to all of that block of memories, everything about us first connecting, until Quinn got in the way." He shifted to sit up a little, pulling her in so he could give her a light kiss. "Singing it with you on that recording got me to remember that first time we sang it, when Mr. Schue decided not to leave, and the rest of that month came with it."

"And then?"

"Then I couldn't wait for more." He cupped her cheek, sinking his gaze into hers. "I needed more, to remember as much as I could, and you'd shown me how, I had to remember key moments with you. And I did, I managed to bring back something really significant, by kind of reconstructing the things that happened before it. And one memory led to the next, and the next... all about you." He reached up to gently stroke her hair away from her forehead. "And then, well, I don't know if there's really been many days in all the time I'd lost where I didn't think about you in one way or another, everything else came back too. So thank you, for being you. For bringing my life back to me. I wouldn't be me without you."

Rachel moved into him and kissed him, feeling him kiss her back, and she'd been wrong to hope that their connection would be the same, because this was so much stronger. She felt like her heart was about to explode, unable to contain all the love she felt.

"What was it?" she asked eventually.

"The memory?" Finn reddened. "It was us, our first time together. I'd had a flash of it for a long time, ever since you wore that dress again for the fair, really, but I didn't know if it was real or not. I found out when it was, good thing Puck's kind of nosy about things like that, and I did my best to relive the stuff that happened earlier that day so I could find my way back into the memory."

"Oh, Finn." Rachel pulled back to look at him, her eyes glistening. "You did that, for us? That day, that was one of the worst times for you, your dreams falling apart, you felt so down on yourself. And you put yourself through that again?" She stroked his face, looking at him with such love.

Finn met her gaze, and smiled a little. "Well I didn't know it was going to have me feel so crappy when I started it," he admitted. He swallowed. "But it was worth it the first time, and it was worth it again. You're worth it." And they kissed again, no telling which of them moved first.

"It's a very good thing you made sure it was so special, that night," Rachel whispered.

"Mmm-hmm..." Finn continued to kiss her, their passion escalating.

Rachel sucked on Finn's lower lip, causing him to groan. "I think it's time to make some new memories," she murmured, a little shy.

Finn smiled, then caressed her cheek. "Are you sure?"

Rachel gave him a small moue. "You don't have to ask me if I'm sure to convince me that you're really back, Finn."

He laughed, wrapping his arms around her exuberantly and rolling them over so he was above her, his whole face shining down at her with love. "I love you," he said softly, starting to caress her through her dress, lowering his head to hers for a soft slow kiss.

They made love joyously, passionately, urgently, every touch more exquisite than ever.

* * *

_* "Back to You", as performed by Bryan Adams, written by Bryan Adams and Eliot Kennedy._

* * *

_please review!_


	37. love and life are deep

They lay together for a while, naked under the quilt, Rachel's head pillowed on Finn's chest and his arm around her. Finn's face held a broad grin, he doubted he would be able to get rid of it even if he wanted to try. He felt so good, physically, emotionally, and even mentally, everything fitting the way it should.

"It's like every endorphin I didn't have for the last five months decided to show up at once," he mused, still riding his sexual high as well as the elation of their reunion. "Do I ever feel _good_."

Rachel sighed in deep contentment, still euphoric. She stretched a little. "I know what you mean. Mmm." She paused. "Endorphins? I'm impressed."

"Yeah, I've learned a lot about things that affect the brain," Finn said.

"And what is affecting your brain right now?"

He leaned down to her ear. "Same thing that's affecting the rest of me. You."

Rachel gave another happy sigh and idly stroked his arm.

"So... you were going to seduce me, huh?" Finn asked, amused.

"It was an option," Rachel responded seriously, then giggled. "I'm very glad you told me I didn't need to."

"I told you you didn't have to _try_," Finn corrected. "Trust me, you'll be successful. And I definitely want to see you in that dress you were talking about."

"Well that's why I brought it. And bought it, even, I certainly wasn't going to wear it for anyone else."

"I appreciate your faith in me." Finn was chuckling, but soon sobered. "I really do, you know," he said quietly, stroking her bare shoulder. "Yeah it scared the daylights out of me at first, you always do, but knowing what was waiting for me, you and all your love, all _our_ love, it was a great motivator." He sighed. "Once I knew what we'd had, or at least what I could understand of it, I wanted it again so badly."

"Worth being scared for?"

"Definitely. You're so passionate, it was hard to relate to until I felt it myself. And it's terrifying to feel so much. But so, so worth it, now I'd be terrified if I didn't, it'd be like I'd gone cold." He stroked her hair for a few moments. "But how far back were you considering seducing me?" he teased, tilting her over so he could look into her face.

Rachel laughed. "Have I told you how much I love your hands?" she asked in return, reaching over Finn to stroke his far hand and interlace her fingers into his.

Finn turned towards her, trying to frown but mostly failing. "You're changing the subject."

"I'm really not." She stroked her thumb over the back of his hand.

Finn was intrigued, and thought about it. "Okay, I know me using my hands turns you on," he said, stroking her to demonstrate why and enjoying her short gasps of pleasure at his touch, "but when did you see that? It was way later that you saw me in the shop, and not very close... wait a minute." Finn thought back to the first things he'd been using his hands for, and when she'd watched him playing Halo with Puck. "I was still in hospital!" he mock protested.

Rachel blushed. "You didn't want to be," she maintained. "And I love how you use your hands." She moaned as he fondled her again. "Yes, like that," she sighed.

Finn leaned over to her ear. "You were considering jumping a _mental patient_."

Rachel rolled over, pushing him back so she could lie on top of his chest. "You were not a mental patient, you were merely under observation," she insisted. "I was observing."

Finn laughed. "Okay, I have to give you that," he said, stroking down her back and pressing her more tightly to him. "But that's a long time."

Rachel smiled. "It was. So you can understand why I really didn't want to have to wait over Christmas as well."

"Oh I understand," Finn breathed, leaning up to kiss her. "Believe me, I understand."

They kissed for a while, their hands starting to explore each other again, their ardor building gradually.

"How about the rest?" Rachel sighed, cupping his face. "I mean, there's much more to you than just you and me. You went through a lot last year, figuring yourself out and finding your own direction. Your confidence is back, more than ever, I can feel it, but please know I'm always willing to help if you need it."

"You did then too. You and Kurt both." Finn kissed her forehead, then her nose. "Once the foundation came back the rest did too. But thank you for worrying about me."

"Can't stop," she admitted. "Not that I've tried. But I did tell myself that what matters is that you're truly happy, whether you're with me or not."

Finn sat up a little, pivoting their bodies so that they lay facing each other. His hand stroked her hair as he looked into her eyes. "Rach, me truly happy without you? I don't think so."

Rachel blushed a little. "What I mean is, I have these dreams for my life. And you're in all of them, but there are a lot of other things in there too –"

"Broadway," Finn said, kissing her cheek lightly.

"Of course," Rachel said. "But I want you to have that too, not specifically Broadway I mean, but something that you want for yourself. For your life. It can't just be me, you already have me –" Finn cut her off with a kiss to her lips. When they came up for air she continued. "– you need something you can strive for as well. You're so good at accomplishing things when you put your mind to it."

"My mind?" The corner of Finn's mouth turned up a little.

Rachel pouted. "Yes. You know what I mean."

"Yes, I do," Finn said, stopping his teasing. "And believe me, the whole exercise of putting my memories back together has taught me a lot about what I can do, at least with the right support. I don't know exact details of what I want to do, it's not like you and Broadway, but I know the direction."

"I'm glad." Rachel sighed happily and pulled Finn's arm a little tighter around her. "Mmm, I love this."

"So do I." And Finn was so close to exploding with joy at how right it all was, cuddling with Rachel in their extended afterglow, teasing each other a little and talking about them and their future, because every time they scaled the heights together it made them both think about forever a little more. Especially now. He took her hand, and put it on the left side of his chest. "Feel that?"

"Yes," Rachel responded, feeling his heart thud under his hand. "You remember where, I see."

"Yep." Finn smiled. "You know what it says on it?"

"What?"

"'Property of Rachel Berry'. Ever since you showed me where it was." He kissed her temple. "I'm sorry I was such an ass about all that, when I first woke up," he said. "And some of the other times too, I was a complete idiot. I didn't understand then it was possible to feel this much for someone."

"That's okay now," she said.

"More than okay... now I can't understand how I could think I didn't. Because this, this feeling – it's unstoppable. And that's one of the weirdest things."

"It's weird that it's unstoppable?"

Finn chuckled. "No, that's the right thing, always. No, it's weird remembering not remembering, not knowing. When you told me how much you loved me and I didn't get it, how could I not? When I think back it just doesn't make sense. And other stuff too, stuff I didn't recognize. Like when we were here, in your room, when I asked to look at your ring, and – you basically replayed our first kiss, what we said, but I didn't recognize it. I even turned it back on you later without remembering that it was how we started."

"I wondered about that," Rachel said. "You replied the same way but I couldn't tell if that was because you remembered on some level or you were just answering me back."

"Well on some level I did know," Finn said. "'Cause I was going to do a whole lot more than kiss you, even before my subconscious took over, way beyond anything that I'd ever have done at the time I remembered. You were so right, what you told me the next day, that I knew you, how to be with you. But it's really weird, I mean I think about doing that, and it felt so natural, then you telling me you love me, and how that broke me out of my subconscious or whatever I was doing and stopped me because I couldn't say it back. And it's like I'm watching myself, in the memory, and telling myself how _stupid_ I'm being because of course I love you."

Rachel sighed. "I could stay like this forever," she murmured, snuggling even closer to him.

Finn looked down at her and smiled. "Naked?"

"Sure," Rachel sighed softly. "Nothing separating us."

"Like a metaphor? For us?" He gave her a big grin, his dimples showing.

She giggled. "Not _just _a metaphor." She slowly stroked his chest, her hand going slightly lower each time. "But metaphors –"

"– are important. I know." Finn groaned at the feel of her hand stroking down his abdomen. "As metaphors go this one rules."

Rachel smiled, but pulled her hand back. "Finn," she said, suddenly serious. "I need to know something. I promise your answer doesn't change anything between us, as long as it's the truth."

"Okay," Finn replied, sitting up slightly. "What is it?"

"Were you with anyone else? While – while you didn't remember us, and we were apart?" She swallowed. "It's okay if you were, really, you didn't remember me, I just need to know. If anything happened, just tell me now and we can start clean." She met his eyes, and he could see the trepidation in hers.

Finn met her eyes forthrightly. "No," he said. "I know the old me way back then was thinking more about just getting to have sex, but no. The closest I came was that day with you." While he knew she was being honest about just wanting to know, he also was happy to see her relax in relief at his answer.

"Not even Quinn, huh?"

"No, not even Quinn. Never with Quinn, actually. Aside from that one stupid time with Santana, it's only ever been you." He looked deeply into her eyes. "I promise that's the truth. I was messed up at first but I knew I was, I knew I shouldn't do anything like that, and by the time you left I knew I was meant to be yours, I just had to find the way."

"I didn't either," Rachel said. "I don't know what I would have done eventually if you hadn't remembered, or loved me again, but I've known I'm yours for a long time now. I can't even imagine letting anyone else touch me like that, at all, or even kiss me other than a stage kiss. Which I haven't done yet."

"I... did kiss Quinn," Finn admitted quietly. "Just once, back in July."

"In the park next to the synagogue. I know," Rachel said in a small voice.

"You – you saw?" Finn crushed Rachel to him, hugging her tightly. "I am so sorry," he whispered in her ear, his voice thick with emotion. "So very, very sorry. That must have been so awful." He pulled back and looked searchingly into her face._ But I saw her just a few days later and I couldn't tell._

"It was," Rachel admitted. "But Quinn came to see me – I don't know how she knew I'd seen it, maybe she saw me though that wasn't how she put it – anyway, she apologized and gave me a really good pep talk about how I shouldn't give up. Not that I would have, I don't think I can actually, but it did help a lot." She laughed ruefully. "I've learned so much perspective from this," she said. "When I think back at how dramatic I used to get about such small things... none of those things matter."

"Happy?" Finn's face was full of love as he looked at her. He stroked her hair.

"Blissfully," Rachel said, touching his face. She kissed him lightly. "If you were a drug, Finn Hudson, you'd be illegal."

"Exclusive supply."

"Well I need enough for forever, I never want to have to go through withdrawal again."

"I'll do my best, no more cold turkey for you." He grinned. "Especially since you're vegan." Rachel's nose twitched. "About that," Finn went on, "so you know, I do not have any problem with your being vegan. Never have." He stroked down her body. "You're so gorgeous, whatever you're doing you should just keep doing it." He returned her kiss and started to grind his body against hers. "Though feel free to cheat on your diet with me any time." She giggled, then sighed with growing desire, and he kissed her again.

"There's one more thing," she whispered against his mouth.

Finn pulled away and tried to smile despite the interruption. "Yes...?"

"I'm still on the pill," Rachel answered. "Maybe it was a bit hopeful of me, but I felt like if I stopped taking it I would be giving up on us."

"Really," Finn said, giving her his trademark half-grin, his eyes looking into hers with desire. "Okay then." He pulled her to him again and kissed her deeply, slipping his tongue into her open and willing mouth, stroking her tongue with his as he let his hands roam over her body.

They gave themselves over to further re-exploration of each other, their lovemaking no longer urgent but no less sweet. The waves of pleasure that overtook them had a tinge of affirmation.

As they lay together, spent, Finn's stomach growled. Rachel laughed.

"Sounds like we should get you some food," Rachel said. "I knew you couldn't go without for too long."

Finn shared her laughter and looked over at the clock. "No wonder, it's almost five." He smiled at her. "Much as I'd like to stay like this forever, we should go," he said. "Not just for the food. I know the others want to see you too."

Rachel sighed happily and got up, grabbing her robe and putting it on.

"You don't need to cover up quite so quickly," Finn protested, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"I do if I'm going to do this," Rachel commented as she bent over to open one of the lower drawers in her dresser. "Assuming that we're not going to start round three right away."

"Uh, yeah, good call." _Even in the robe... damn._ Finn grabbed his discarded clothes and put them on as Rachel dug out some more of hers and got dressed. She put what she'd worn earlier into her hamper, then brushed her hair out, looking at herself in the mirror.

"They'll be able to tell," she commented with a pout.

"Tell what?"

"What we've been doing," Rachel said. She grabbed her purse and lightly touched up her makeup.

Finn put his arm around her with a grin. "They'll be happy for us then." Rachel put her head down, and her shoulders started to shake. "What? Are you okay, Rach?"

"I'm great," she replied, raising her head to give him a beaming smile in the mirror, and he realized she'd been laughing. "It's just very surreal. Here we are alone in my house, making love, while our families are waiting at your house, hoping that we do."

Finn laughed heartily, his head tipping back, then pulled her to him for a hug as they laughed together. "Well we've all learned a lot about what's important."

* * *

Back at the Hudson-Hummel house, their families had long since exhausted their repertoire of small talk. They'd watched some basketball and had gotten somewhat into the game despite it being recorded from the night before, then Burt started talking about his experiences in Washington and in Congress. They could smell the casseroles that were heating up in the oven, which made the fact that they were waiting for Finn and Rachel much harder to ignore.

Kurt was the first to raise his head, listening, recognizing the sound of his Navigator approaching the house. "That's them," he said, getting up, nodding as the sound of the garage door opening confirmed it.

"Just relax," Burt told him, then looked around at the others. They heard the vehicle pull in and stop, and the garage door close. Hiram and LeRoy moved towards the hall as the door from the garage opened, Finn holding it open for Rachel, who smiled at him as she went through.

"Dad, Daddy!" Rachel chirped happily and went to hug her fathers. Carole looked from her happy face to Finn's broad grin and breathed a small sigh of relief.

Finn saw Kurt's questioning look and replied with a quick nod before going to help Rachel off with her coat. He hung it up along with his own as she went to hug Carole and Burt.

Carole welcomed Rachel back, then quickly excused herself to retrieve the casseroles from the oven.

"You're not mad at me, I hope," Kurt said quietly to Rachel as he came up to her.

She shook her head. "No, you were right, it was Finn's story to tell," Rachel replied. "Besides..." she trailed off, watching Finn as he talked to her dads. "Quibbling about how or when, it seems so stupid." Finn turned his head and caught her eye for a moment before turning back to reply to something Hiram had said. She teared up, a few happy tears, and tried to explain herself to Kurt. "It's like the world invented new levels of happiness to give to me right now," she said. "Nothing else matters, nothing." She gave him a hug. "And I can't thank you enough for all you did to help me get through it. Right now I couldn't be mad at anyone, and definitely not at you."

At that Carole called them all in for dinner.

* * *

All seven of them sat together around the expanded table, Rachel back in her place next to Finn, sitting close with their knees touching. She found she didn't need her left hand much, not to eat her vegan casserole, so it soon found a comfortable spot on Finn's thigh as she gave in to her need to maintain close contact with him.

"So, Rachel, what sort of things have you been doing in New York?" Carole asked as they ate. "I'm sure you've been going to a lot of shows, but anything else outside of school?"

"Well, going to shows is a bit different when you live there," Rachel demurred. "You can go at any time so there's less pressure to actually go, in some way, at least for the large shows that last. And they're expensive. But I did go to a few, mostly minor ones, with Kurt and others from school. And I've looked around the city a bit."

"And what about NYADA? How are you doing there?" Carole prompted further.

Rachel smiled. "I've been doing very well," she said.

Kurt coughed. "Modesty," he muttered under it, which attracted Hiram and LeRoy's attention. They all knew Rachel had many talents, but modesty wasn't one of her stronger ones.

"Better than 'very well', I would think, from what the people there told us," LeRoy said.

She blushed. "I try to let my talent speak for itself, these days. And it's very much 'welcome to the next level'," she explained, earning her a nudge from Finn as he appreciated her video game reference. "A few next levels, really. The school attracts the best of the best, and they push us hard. In the usual ways, singing, dancing, acting, I've found dancing by far the hardest, but also in less expected ways. Though some of those have been the ones we turned out to be more prepared for, isn't that right Kurt?"

Kurt nodded. "That's true. Your average NYADA student is high-powered but usually concentrated on traditional musical theater material. We've done a lot more, we have the variety behind us to handle things that are more... strange. And they do like to push us to the strange at NYADA, they want us to be flexible."

"Such as?" Hiram asked.

"Things we did in Glee, in many cases," Rachel answered. "Mr. Schuester's approach isn't conventional even for show choir, he's always had us do a lot more different things and get more involved in working with what we're doing than a traditional show choir like Vocal Adrenaline does. Rock music, mashups, trying different arrangements – they stretch us at NYADA in some ways that aren't old-school Broadway but were a lot more familiar to us than they were to others. The NYADA faculty appreciate creativity, demand it really. They say they need to separate the artists from the imitators."

"'Do what you're told, when you're told, but don't expect _to be_ told'," Kurt interjected, and Rachel nodded.

"That's one of the mottos we hear. You can't get to the level of being able to create a role or properly revive it if you can't put something new into it. It's actually a validation of the New Directions approach, we've always been like that, creative, more individual. NYADA's not as interested in churning out robotic chorus members as some of the other schools may be. Of course the faculty are all so experienced, it takes something unusual to stand out enough to get their attention."

"Says the girl who chose to mash up 'I'm Not That Girl' with 'It's Not Easy Being Green'," Kurt teased. "That got attention all right."

LeRoy laughed at this. "Comedically, or seriously?"

"Oh, seriously," Rachel insisted. "I would have had a hard time with comedy, under the circumstances, and both songs are serious. Not all negative, though, not in combination. At least a bit hopeful, and they do fit."

Finn gave her a glance at her mention of her 'circumstances'; of course their situation would have affected her work, even as she tried to focus on them more it would have colored her approach. At least it was finally over now. He stroked her knee, almost as if he could send hopeful vibes back into the past to comfort her. He loved to see her laugh, she should be doing more of that too, though he was happy to hear she had been doing so well and the school suited her.

Kurt's pocket chirped and he checked his phone, ignoring the glare Burt gave him.

"Blaine?" Rachel asked, seeing Kurt's special smile at reading the text.

"Yes. Just reminding me about the Glee Christmas party tomorrow afternoon." Kurt looked over at Rachel and Finn. "You two are going to come and crash it with me, of course." It was a statement, not a question.

Finn exchanged a happy look with Rachel. "Of course," he said.

"Okay if he tells the others now?" Kurt asked Finn.

"Uh, about my memory?" Finn thought for a moment. "No," he said. He squeezed Rachel's hand. "The old-timers know; we'll tell the rest tomorrow. And sing them something."

"Ooh, you could do 'Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas'," Kurt suggested. "Very appropriate."

"You, giving up a Judy Garland song? Must be the season of giving," Rachel teased him. "No, you should do that, you can sing it to us if you like. We'll find something." She cast a smile sideways at Finn. "It doesn't really matter what we sing, as long as it's us."

Finn smiled back at her. "I've missed singing with you."

She met his eyes. "Me too." She let her gaze linger on him a little. "What's this karaoke thing that Noah has going?" she asked. "Kurt told me a little about it."

Finn shrugged. "Puck missed singing, and he got to know the manager of 'Rogues', it's the new pub over by Breadstix," he explained. "It started just with running karaoke, and the Glee people have a regular night that we go, but he's working there regularly now."

"I can see Noah liking doing that," Rachel commented.

"Why _do_ you call him 'Noah' anyway?" Finn asked, remembering his conversation with Puck about it.

"I always have, it's his name," Rachel said, her fathers nodding in agreement. "I don't understand."

"Just – Puck and I were talking, after my memory came back, he was giving me kind of a quiz, and he asked me why, to see if I knew. And I don't remember, I don't think I ever have known, though I know it's bugged me sometimes. It shouldn't have, but it did."

"Oh," Rachel said softly. "I suppose it does seem a lot more personal. But I've known the Puckermans since I was a kid, at Temple. Not closely, but I did know him a bit when he used to go, and of course I know his mother and his sister. Hannah's a sweetheart." She smiled a little sadly. "When I was about to start at McKinley, I was really nervous, and Mrs. Puckerman was so kind, she said everything would be fine, her son Noah would be there too and he'd remember me and look out for me. So I dressed up nicely for my first day, and walked into school, and had a cup of sticky ice flung in my face."

"Puck," Finn stated. "Football initiation."

"Yes. The first of many from him."

"And the next day it was me," Finn said sadly. He rubbed his thumb over her hand. "You know I'm so sorry for hurting you and being that jerk, Rach."

"I know. Even then, I knew – you didn't throw it very hard, and you never did it again. Your heart wasn't in it."

"No, my heart you got later."

Rachel giggled appreciatively. "It's a lot warmer." She sighed. "Anyway, Puck – he was the jerk who threw slushies at me. Noah is Mrs. Puckerman's son that I used to know in Temple, Hannah's big brother, and my choirmate and friend. Names are important, and I'd much rather he be the person I think of as Noah than the one I met as Puck."

"Makes sense, I suppose."

"So it was to be more personal, but not in the way you probably took it. And he has looked out for me when I needed it, just not then."

"He's helped me a lot too, especially with my memory. There's no reason for me to be jealous anyway," Finn said, squeezing her hand.

Rachel sighed and laid her head on his shoulder, so very happy.

* * *

After dinner the four parents talked in the kitchen while Kurt went to his room to call Blaine. Finn and Rachel relaxed in the living room, Rachel stretched out on the couch with her head resting in Finn's lap. He stroked her hair.

"There's still one thing I don't remember," Finn said quietly. "The accident. I was out cold once the truck rolled, and I don't remember the seconds before it either. The doctors say I won't, it wouldn't have made it into long-term memory. What happened?"

Rachel closed her eyes, remembering her fear as the truck had rolled, and her sheer panic once it had stopped and she'd found Finn was unconscious.

"It's okay if you don't want to talk about it."

"No, it's all right," she said. "We got through it. It's not like it hasn't replayed in my mind a hundred times already; maybe if I tell you it'll haunt me less." She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "I don't know if you remember the start of it. We were just past Anna, traffic thick but moving well. We'd had such a lovely day. Then this lunatic comes up behind us in a fancy SUV, going really fast; he tries to pass us but there isn't enough space in the other lane, so he pulls back almost right on top of us, sideswipes the truck, and we went through the railing and rolled over and over going down the embankment. I'm pretty sure I screamed your name as we went over. And over. I know I did once we stopped rolling and you didn't answer me. I looked up – we were tilted – and I saw you were unconscious. So I called 911 and crawled up to check on you."

"You were cut," Finn said quietly, tracing the barely visible scar at her temple. He stroked her forehead, trying to ease her agitation.

"Yes, I didn't notice that at first. Just some stray metal from the side of the truck, it got mangled when we hit the railing," she explained. "I didn't notice the blood until it dripped down and made my phone all sticky. I stayed on the phone with emergency services until they came, they used the phone GPS to find us I think. Others called in the accident but they didn't stop. You were breathing and your pulse seemed fine, not that I could tell much, time moved so slowly, but you just wouldn't wake up."

"For four days."

"Yes," Rachel said in a small voice.

"Worst four days of your life, you said."

"Yes."

"Even now?"

"Yes. Hard as you not remembering me was to take, it's nothing compared to the fear that you might die." Their eyes locked, and they stayed like that for a few moments, just looking into each other.

"Finn." Rachel quietly broke the silence. "Could you stay over with me tonight? It's too soon for me to be able to let you go."

"Sure, if your dads will let me," he said, stroking her face. "I thought of asking you to stay here but you only just got home."

"I'll talk to them." Rachel sat up. "I had this horrible thought of waking up tomorrow and thinking that today was just a dream."

"Any time you're worried about that, just call me," Finn said. "Seriously."

Rachel went into the kitchen to talk to her dads.

"Dad, Daddy... could Finn come and stay over tonight? With me? Today's been so wonderful but also so overwhelming, I need more time with him."

Hiram and Leroy exchanged a look. "Yes, that should be fine, sweetheart," Hiram said. "Just, ahh, be discreet." Rachel went over and hugged both men.

"It's so good to see you happy again, honey," LeRoy said softly.

Rachel gave them a beaming smile, then returned to the living room.

Finn was at the stereo, putting some music on. He turned as she came in, saw her smile, and answered it with a grin of his own as he adjusted the volume.

The music started; it sounded like Finn's usual classic rock, though the volume was low and Rachel couldn't make out the words. Finn stayed by the stereo and looked at her, his hand on the volume. He was obviously up to something. She moved closer to try to hear the music better, but he motioned her back. Finn was listening carefully, tapping the beat out against his thigh, even wincing a little at something he heard. He smiled and turned the volume up. Rachel recognized the band from the singer's voice – REO Speedwagon – and met Finn's eyes as he approached her, singing: (*)

_And I meant, every word I said  
When I said that I love you  
I meant that I love you forever_

Finn took Rachel's hand in his as he sang to her, giving it all his voice, all his emotion.

_And I'm gonna keep on lovin' you  
'Cause it's the only thing I wanna do  
I don't wanna sleep, I just wanna keep on lovin' you_

A guitar solo took over, and Finn twirled Rachel into him for a quick kiss. He resumed singing with a smile.

_And I meant every word I said  
When I said that I love you  
I meant _

Rachel beamed back at him, and joined in:  
_that I love you forever_

_And I'm gonna keep on lovin' you  
'Cause it's the only thing I wanna do  
I don't wanna sleep, I just wanna keep on lovin' you_

_Baby, I'm gonna keep on lovin' you  
'Cause it's the only thing I wanna do  
I don't wanna sleep, I just wanna keep on lovin' you_

They finished with a kiss, then blushed at the applause from their family, who had been watching from the front hall.

Kurt held up his phone, showing a picture of them gazing happily at each other as they sang. "Mind if I send this out? There are others who are going to be happy to see you two back to normal."

Finn looked at Rachel hopefully, and she nodded. "Sure, go ahead," Finn said. "Make sure you include Puck."

"And Quinn," Rachel added. "I know she'd like to know."

"I'll send it to the whole club from last year," Kurt stated. "And the agents of chaos, of course."

"Megan and Amanda, friends at NYADA," Rachel explained to Finn. "They think we're epic."

He grinned. "We are. After all this? We definitely are."

* * *

Rachel went with Finn up to his room as he went to pack an overnight bag.

She hadn't been in Finn's room since before he'd come home from the hospital. A few things had changed; his drum kit was further forward and was clearly in heavy use, with his iPod and a new speaker next to it. Some books on the brain sat on his shelves. And next to his bed, more prominently than even his alarm clock, were two pictures, the one of her from prom that she remembered he'd had before, and next to it, one of the two of them at Kings Island the day of the accident, cuddled close together, looking so happy.

Finn saw her looking at it. "That's one of the ones I got Kurt to take," he said. "I found it on my phone when I looked through it seriously after my memory came back. It's been my inspiration since then, showed me what I was holding on for. We had such a wonderful day before the trip back wrecked everything."

"I still have that dress," Rachel said. "I guess I just couldn't get myself to throw it away, but between the blood and the dirt it's a write-off."

"So was the truck."

"Yes, I know. I miss it, we made a lot of good memories in that old truck of yours," she said. "Even though the last one was so horrible. Why haven't you replaced it yet, though? You like having your own vehicle."

"I think I'm going to have to get out of that habit," he said. "Well I sort of did anyway, since I didn't remember having the truck. And with Kurt in New York and Burt in DC a lot, there were enough spare vehicles around here. Plus there's not much point in getting a new one now."

"Why not?" Rachel stared at Finn, concerned that something was going on.

"City says I can start in January and there won't be anywhere to park."

"What?" Rachel blinked, then caught the half-grin that Finn was failing to repress. "City, as in New York? You're coming to New York in January?" She went to him and he put his arms around her.

"Yep," he said. "Got a medical referral so I'll have someone to keep tabs on my head, and I did take a couple of courses part-time at Lima Community this fall, like I planned. Everything went well, even with my memories coming back and disrupting things a bit, so I'm good to go. City even says they have space for me in the dorms." He saw Rachel's face fall a little, and he pulled her close. "I hope that's just for a term. The old plan was to live with you and Kurt, and that's still on for later if you'll have me. But we've been apart and I don't want either of us to get thrown by rushing into full-on right away. We're for the long haul, so I figure it's worth being careful."

Rachel nodded. She was disappointed, she'd prefer that Finn never leave her arms again, but this was just the first day of their reunion, it was so very overwhelming and they should probably let things settle down a bit. She certainly wasn't capable of making any decisions right now, and Finn hadn't had his memory back for very long, he was still getting used to all of it. After all they'd been through it would break her if things went wrong. However, something about what Finn was describing seemed curious.

"You got all that arranged in less than two weeks?" she asked, wondering.

"Ah, no," Finn admitted. "I got all that arranged in _ten_ weeks." He smiled sheepishly as he caught Rachel's inquisitive look. "Once the fall started I looked into it and asked for the deferral, and when I started getting some memories back I worked more seriously on making the arrangements. I hoped I'd remember more and I wanted to have the option."

Rachel smiled. "I see. And if you hadn't remembered?"

"Well..." Finn reddened. "I thought of going anyway, I mean it is a good program." He swallowed. "I just wanted to be with you," he admitted softly. "I didn't see how it could work, with you remembering and me not, stuck at different stages of our relationship, but I wanted to try." He choked up a little, then cleared his throat. "I don't think there's any version of me that hasn't been in love with you, whether I knew it or not. Once I got over being spooked that you existed and let myself get to know you."

Rachel looked into Finn's face, seeing his emotion, the residue of the longing and insecurity he'd felt when he hadn't remembered who he'd become and thought he couldn't be good enough again. She pressed a light kiss to his lips and then wrapped her arms around him, her hand threading through his hair and pressing his head to her shoulder as she nestled hers into his. "And there hasn't been any version of you that I haven't been in love with," she whispered. "Now I really do get to have it all."

"So do I," Finn answered, raising his head and smiling down at her. "And now you can show me around New York."

"I'd rather not," Rachel said. Finn frowned, puzzled. "Around NYADA, of course, and the neighborhood, I suppose I will and Kurt will too. But it's a big city, there's lots of it I haven't seen. What I want is to discover things _with_ you."

Finn lowered his head to hers again. "You're not just talking about New York, are you."

"No," Rachel breathed, and closed the last two inches for a kiss.

Finn kissed her back, then held her chin to keep her eyes on his as he stroked down her neck until he found the chain that held her engagement ring. "Keep wearing this. I'll ask again, I promise."

* * *

_* "Keep On Loving You", as performed by REO Speedwagon, written by Kevin Cronin._


	38. it is what it is, and forever

**Four months later...**

_New York is so beautiful in the spring_, Rachel thought as she walked down the street, enjoying the trees in bloom and the late afternoon sun. She mentally hugged herself. Everything was going so well. She had a featured role in one of NYADA's spring shows, as did Kurt, she felt her classes were really stretching her abilities, and best of all she had Finn. A more mature Finn, actually. His struggles with his memory had brought him a better understanding of himself and had also given him a lot of practice in figuring things out, which was reflected both in their relationship and in his studies at City. And gradually over the last few months he'd been spending more and more time at the apartment, until now he used his dorm room more as an oversized locker for school stuff and an occasional place to crash, a situation which also made his dorm mate very happy. Last weekend they'd even painted their room, a soft green with yellow highlights that they both liked (steadfastly ignoring Kurt's opinion), and Finn was set to move in officially once his term ended.

Finn moving in had accelerated sharply after they'd had their first big fight. They'd been happy to have survived it, as well as strangely relieved that they were comfortable enough to have the fight, feeling back to normal. They'd also made it up spectacularly. Each had independently cancelled their incompatible extracurricular plans that had been the problem and bought takeout from the other's favorite restaurant. When they'd met at the apartment and discovered this they'd laughed, fallen into each others' arms, and spent the (now clear and well-supplied) weekend inseparable, walking hand-in-hand by the Lake, cuddling while not really watching movies, and passionately making love, mostly in the large bed that Finn had called hers but was now ready to admit was really _his_. They'd gotten to Sunday before either of them had wondered what had become of Kurt, each thinking the other knew; since they'd both separately confided in him, he'd decided to make an impromptu weekend trip to D.C. to see his dad, but he was never going to let them forget that he had been away for 40 hours before anyone texted him to find out where he'd gone. It hadn't been Finn and Rachel's last argument, but it had broken them out of the 'best behavior' mode that they'd been attempting since their reunion, reassuring them that they could be fully themselves together and survive the usual relationship storms as well as the more epic ones they'd already endured.

The people at NYADA had been surprised to meet Finn, many of them because they had written the tale off as either crazy gossip or a fiction Rachel had made up to keep guys away. Amanda and Megan had been happy to meet and get to know him, though Megan had teased that she'd thought he'd be taller and Amanda was threatening to use an exaggerated version of their story as basis for next fall's massively implausible and wildly histrionic freshman hazing song. Some of Rachel's friends had recently begun mocking them kindly about excessive public displays of affection, but Rachel secretly didn't mind the comments and certainly didn't agree that their PDA was at all excessive. She had Finn back, she could touch him and hug him and kiss him all she liked, and nothing was going to stop her from doing exactly that even if their friends were around. Some had wondered if she was really the same girl as the private and emotionally reserved one they'd first met in the fall, but her stunning audition for the spring show and intense focus during rehearsals killed all those doubts. Rachel was very happy, but she was still Rachel Berry.

And now Rachel felt that late spring was making the whole city feel like she'd felt since December, so alive again, and the bright weather and new growth around her fed her happy mood.

Her phone chirped and she checked it for a message. Finn. She always felt a little giddy at hearing from him. But her heart thudded as she read familiar words: _Meet me at Bow Bridge._

She arrived by the Lake in Central Park to see Finn leaning on the bridge's railing, wearing a light suit, flowers in his hand. She paused to drink in the sight of him, and he turned, breaking into a beaming smile as he saw her.

She smiled back at him as she walked up. He handed her the bouquet of flowers, her favorite tulips, but not pink ones this time: vibrant red mixed with cream. Her heart thrummed again as she noted their meanings, sure that this choice couldn't be accidental, especially since he knew how much she liked pink. Red was for passion, romantic love. The cream, that meant forever.

And this was really happening... Rachel looked up into Finn's warm brown eyes that were so full of love, and felt his hand cup her cheek. He lowered his hand to her throat, lightly pulling at the chain she wore, fishing up the ring and taking it into his hand. He swallowed and started to speak.

"Rachel... when I gave this to you before I promised I'd keep loving you for the rest of my life if you'd just say yes," Finn said, almost choking on his own rising happiness. They were young for this, yes, but each of them was so much a part of the other that this was simply recognizing what was already true. "And even when I couldn't remember you or even know how I felt, I still loved you. You said once that you didn't need the ring to remind you that I'm your guy, but it certainly helped me know how important you were and what I really needed in my life. I've felt how wonderful it is to be with you, and how empty it is to be without you, and this time you don't need to say anything to get me to love you forever because _that's just the way it is_." Finn let go of the ring and took her hand, sinking to one knee, his eyes still intent on hers. "Rachel, will you marry me?"

"Yes," Rachel smiled, her eyes filling with tears of happiness. She sank to join Finn, sitting on his knee, and put her arms around his neck. "Yes, Finn, oh yes. I love you and I will marry you." They kissed tenderly, and Finn lifted her back to her feet as he rose himself.

"Then let's put this back where it belongs," he said, taking the chain. He carefully opened it and slid the ring off. He met Rachel's eyes again for a moment, then took her left hand and slipped the ring onto her finger. He kissed the back of her hand, much as he had that day in her room when he'd been trying to remember their engagement, and then kissed her lips again.

Passersby who had witnessed the proposal gave them some scattered applause and a couple of wolf whistles, and they both laughed. Finn took Rachel's hand, intertwining their fingers, and led her into some of the woods that lined the park.

"Where are we going?" Rachel asked happily.

"Sardi's for dinner," Finn answered with a smile. "Where else?" Rachel giggled at this. "We have to keep going back, some day fans will be excited about seeing you there," he explained. "Not as excited as I am, though. I'll always be your number one fan. But we have a bit of time to walk around first."

As they threaded through the woods, Finn started to sing softly: (*)

_Highway run, into the midnight sun  
Wheels go round and round, you're on my mind_

Rachel smiled and joined in:

_Restless hearts, sleep alone tonight  
Sending all my love down the wire_

They continued to walk hand-in-hand, singing together, just for themselves:

_They say that the road ain't no place to start a family  
**Right down the line it's been you and me  
**But loving a music man ain't always what it's supposed to be  
Oh girl, you stand by me  
**I'm forever yours, faithfully**_

Their eyes found each other at that last word, and they shared a smile, as they always would.

END

* * *

_* "Faithfully", as performed by Journey (or the Glee Cast), written by Jonathan Cain._

* * *

_Please review! It's done, but I still want to know what you think._

* * *

_Author's Note:_

_Wow. Hard to believe I wrote all this!_

_I thank all of you very much for your continued interest, whether you've been following it chapter-by-chapter as it came out or are reading the whole thing now. Much thanks especially to all who reviewed as it was in progress, and those with whom I've had discussions. Your support, appreciation, and feedback has been wonderful.  
_

_I still don't own Glee or its characters, and I am grateful to those who do and the Glee cast and crew for the inspiration they have provided._

_As noted, the story title and all chapter titles are quotes from Rush songs. The chapter was always planned first, with the quote chosen for it later, though sometimes the song bled into the chapter text a little; often the options I considered for a chapter all came from the same song. I did not reuse a song, except that "Vital Signs" provided both the overall title and the chapter 17 title, and I preferred songs that matched the chapter more generally when possible. All songs have lyrics by Neil Peart, except for 20 and 37 which have lyrics by Neil Peart and Pye Dubois. Serendipitously, the last chapter's title comes from the last song on the latest album, which was released after I started this fic. "The Garden" is indeed a beautiful song._

_Chapter Title Sources:  
1. driven to the edge of a deep dark hole: Driven  
2. like a torn-up photograph: Half the World  
3. life redirected in ways unexpected: The Big Wheel  
4. a world so out of touch: Kid Gloves  
5. time has passed me by: Xanadu  
6. a certain measure of tolerance: One Little Victory  
7. static on your frequency: The Pass  
8. I wish that I could live it all again: Headlong Flight  
9. broken contacts in emotional chemistry: The Weapon  
10. washed away like footprints in the rain: Vapor Trail  
11. never ever win without a fight: Resist  
12. put aside the alienation: Limelight  
13. a vague sensation quickens: The Analog Kid  
14. it slips between your hands like water: Between the Wheels  
15. the secret wells of emotion: Emotion Detector  
16. the spark still flies: Chain Lightning  
17. sometimes our circuits get shorted: Vital Signs  
18. a smile on the edge of sadness: Out of the Cradle  
19. shadows hide the play of light: Available Light  
20. the lens between wishes and fact: Between Sun and Moon  
21. from the way we thought we'd share it: Far Cry  
22. it takes a little more persistence: The Enemy Within  
23. in memories they resonate: Scars  
24. set the wheels in motion: Prime Mover  
25. even though you're going through hell: Wish Them Well  
26. find the minds that made us strong: A Farewell to Kings  
27. memory a flickering light: Dreamline  
28. break the surface tension: Grand Designs  
29. images conflicting into data overload: The Body Electric  
30. where is the wave that will carry me: Spindrift  
31. racing down a river from the past: Turn the Page  
32. let your heart be the anchor: Something for Nothing  
33. let the truth of love be lighted: Cygnus X-1 Book II: Hemispheres  
34. hold the flame 'til the dream ignites: Mission  
35. burns with a restless flame: Cut to the Chase  
36. your love has shown me proof: Madrigal  
37. love and life are deep: Tom Sawyer  
38. it is what it is, and forever: The Garden_

_And... I think I'm going to take a little break now, though I do have some (much shorter!) fics in development that I hope to have ready soon._

_Yours in Finchel,  
Henrietta Line_


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